


And Then He Said

by yejiapsaranghaja



Category: BTOB, DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, EXO (Band), Red Velvet (K-pop Band), f(x), 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, College, Drama, Drummer Chanyeol, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pianist Chanyeol, Red-Haired Chanyeol, Romance, Smut, guitarist chanyeol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yejiapsaranghaja/pseuds/yejiapsaranghaja
Summary: For Layna —Thank you for trusting me with the bits and pieces of your story.—Everything about Chanyeol was a turn-on: He was a drummer, pianist, guitarist, star quarterback, sex god—not to mention his inhuman good looks that had girls fawning over the very ground he walked on—and yet, it wasn’t enough to impress the freshman hottie who had no clue he was the bad boy’s Kryptonite, for in a world of sarcastic roommates, wary stepbrothers, and gay fathers, something as simple as love could slip right out of sight.—“Byun Baekhyun, it’s you. You make me beautiful, and I knew that you would from the moment I first saw you.”And so it was declared the indisputable truth, from then on, that Baekhyun was all that was “beautiful” in Chanyeol...





	1. “Hey Cutie”

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-post from AFF.
> 
> —
> 
> NO TRANSLATIONS.
> 
> —
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> Literally the slightest Chanbaek age gap to warn anyone about, Chanyeol and Jongin are older than Kyungsoo and Baekhyun and Kyungsoo is older than Baekhyun... Eunkwang and Minhyuk are Baekhyun’s fathers—basically, I mess with everyone’s ages... /wipes sweat/—and a whole lot of (poorly written) sex, intense slight!angst some kind of angst I don’t even know if it’s slight anymore... inaccurate depictions of everything in life...
> 
> On a more serious note: Expression of severe depression, anxiety, and abuse (multiple forms) based on personal experiences, use of others’ real-life stories with permission for character development, mentions of mpreg (yes, I am aware it is not possible and I am not sorry if it makes you uncomfortable), and anything else I may have overlooked.
> 
> **Note: In order to prevent spoiling the plot, I am withholding specific warnings that come much later in the story for individual chapters in which they appear. Please read any warnings indicated at the beginning of the chapters before continuing with the story. [M] and [TW] chapters will also be marked.

Something was missing.

Baekhyun couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was 200% sure that he had forgotten an important item at home. It would’ve made no difference now to say something to his parents, since they were almost at their destination, but it was uncontrollable word vomit, just like everything else he said to them that day.

“Dad, I left something. Don’t ask me what, but it’s sitting in my bedroom and I’ll really need it.”

“Okay, is it your bed?” Baekhyun’s father said with a chuckle. He always laughed at his own jokes, even when nobody else did.

He adjusted the rearview mirror and caught Baekhyun’s drifting gaze just before it floated completely from the car and back to the lovely scenery outside. “Hey, are you nervous?”

“No, not really. I mean, it’s just school. Unfortunately. And keep your eyes on the road.”

“I think you’ll really like it. The people are friendly, the campus is beautiful, and the dorms are huge.”

Baekhyun squinted with a half-smirk drawn crookedly to the left. “It amazes me how much you know without actually having attended the academy.”

“When your academy bumps heads with another one, you’ll find yourself more interested in the rival than your own,” Baekhyun’s other father said, shooting the man in the driver’s seat a playful glare. “How do you think we met?”

 _Please don’t tell the story,_ Baekhyun chanted in his head. _Please don’t tell—_

“You remember, right Baekkie? It was at a soccer match, and I had been sitting in the wrong stands for half the game, screaming profanities at...”

It finally hit Baekhyun: He forgot his headphones.

—

Both of his fathers insisted on escorting him to his room when they arrived, but Baekhyun, already dreading the extra attention he’d be getting for his first-year status, begged them to leave as soon as he could unload his possessions. He didn’t start walking up the sidewalk until their car was out of view.

It seemed so typical, the open bowl serving the purpose of being the campus focal point, students sitting around anywhere, gated flower beds and fountains, and football players playing catch in the middle of it all. Was this really how he’d be spending the next four years of his life? With a sigh, he reached into his duffel and pulled out his campus map, which came with his acceptance letter. He turned it once, twice, and by the third time, he saw that he was closer than he’d anticipated, as long as he followed the main path until it crossed with another, and to his left was The Village.

He rummaged around for his letter in his bag. “ ‘Building five, room six,’ ” Baekhyun read, and then he looked up at how the dormitories were set up. Even numbers on one side, odd on the other, and so once again, he turned left, following the increasing numbers.

One...three... _five._

The stairs winded up four exhausting floors. The map in his hands told him that he only needed to walk up to the second. He was happy to know that, but as he tried to move forward, his feet were as good as nailed into the concrete. Nervous was no longer the word to describe what filled him. His eyes scanned everything about the building, down to its dullest brick’s smallest crack, and he had persuaded himself that he was not fit to attend Riverside Academy. The atmosphere was off. _He_ was off.

But this notion faded from him as he remembered this academy’s reputation. Each year, Riverside only took in 50 students, give or take a few, even though thousands would apply. He was one of those lucky 50, so even if something didn’t initially feel right, he reckoned he could adjust. What could possibly go wrong anyhow?

He lugged his belongings up the two flights of stairs and searched for his room. When he found number six, the door was already open, and the sound of a vacuum cleaner blared from inside. Baekhyun whined. He hoped he wasn’t assigned to a neat freak.

“Hello?” he called before stepping in. “Roommate?”

The vacuum stopped. “The name’s Kyungsoo!” a low voice returned from the right side of the dorm. In no time, Baekhyun saw a shadow approaching, and he was quickly joined by a scrawny male dressed in an outfit nearly identical to himself: plain white T-shirt and dark blue jeans. The only difference was Baekhyun wore a gray cardigan to hide his figure, not that there was much to hide anyway. “So, you’re the Byun kid, right?”

“The name’s Baekhyun.” They shook hands and exchanged vague glimpses. “Is this your first year, too?”

“No, I’m a junior. Freshmen are never appointed to a freshman.”

“Why?”

“Questions later. Put your things in your room and get dressed for the Welcome Concert. You look like a mess.”

Snapping his head down, Baekhyun eyed his outfit with a harsh frown before moving back over to Kyungsoo’s, doing the same thing. “But I look like you. I mean, we’re wearing the same thing.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo muttered, as if it wasn’t apparent. “Lose the cardi then. It makes you look...you look...”

“Like a mess?”

“No, it makes you look gay.”

Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel offended. It wasn’t exactly a flattering comment, but lucky for Kyungsoo, his statement wasn’t too skewed from the truth. Of course, he didn’t have to know that. Quite frankly, it wasn’t his business to meddle in, so instead of retorting with something witty, Baekhyun nodded and slipped out of the cardigan. “Is that better?” he asked.

It took a moment for Kyungsoo to answer. “No, but at least now, you’ll blend.”

—

They didn’t say much to one another on their way to the Open Hall. Kyungsoo walked with his head held high, a few steps in front of Baekhyun in order to lead the way, and every few paces, he’d stop to say hi to someone he knew and alienate Baekhyun for a couple minutes.

Upon their arrival to the basement of the Open Hall, two overflowing bags were shoved into Baekhyun’s hands by a male that was about his height. He had a fair and handsome face, almost feminine. He gestured inside the hall, his eyes glowing with excitement. “The Welcome Concert is this way! Please hang on tight to your bags, for they will come in handy at the end of the event. Have fun, and be safe!”

Kyungsoo, taking Baekhyun by his wrist, helped them move forward. “Junmyeon, senior, head of freshman orientation, assistant to Dean of Students.”

“I-I didn’t ask,” Baekhyun muttered. “But nice to know. Wish you’d tell me that much about yourself.”

“Like you said, you didn’t ask.”

Baekhyun scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes wandered to the left, the right, and then to his left again. If the entire student body had Kyungsoo’s attitude and wit, Baekhyun didn’t think he’d have the energy to stick around for the next four years.

It was in the midst of this idea that Baekhyun noticed the massive stage, decorated with band equipment. He tapped Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “The ‘Welcome Concert’ isn’t _actually_ a concert, right?”

“It is, but it isn’t. They just have the same band play different songs every year to give the freshman a little taste of who’s at the top of the food chain here.” Kyungsoo peeked at Baekhyun. His anxiety was too apparent to ignore. “Don’t worry. I’m your guide for a reason. I’ll protect you from whatever drum sticks and guitar picks that are thrown at you.”

“Thanks,” Baekhyun said, and before his guide-slash-roommate could get another word out, he made his way to a vacant table near the back of the room. He was unsure if Kyungsoo had followed him over, but that wasn’t his problem. He needed to take care of himself above all. Public events were never his thing anyway. It was only in his best interest that he stay as far away from the front as possible.

He looked around the Open Hall again and studied the behavior he saw. Everyone was so calm and quiet, nothing like Kyungsoo as far as he knew. They were all clearly of sophisticated nature, and it struck Baekhyun: No more than six hours prior, Baekhyun was sure that college life would be nothing but busy and loud. Could he have been wrong to judge a book without having actually seen its cover?

From afar, Kyungsoo spotted the way Baekhyun mouthed things to himself after staring a person down. He laughed softly, politely exited his ongoing conversation with another guide, and ambled over to his roommate, who was too focused to even notice him. Kyungsoo cleared his throat and sat down.

“Baekhyun.”

He peeled his attention away for a split second to look at Kyungsoo. “Hm? What?” Then, he retreated to his shell.

“Do you like Riverside so far?”

“Uh...I’ve only been here for like, half an hour.”

Kyungsoo smirked. “And yet you’ve found the time to judge all the people here right now.”

“Hey, I wasn’t judging! I was simply observing.”

“Okay, whatever floats your boat.”

“You don’t have room to lecture me about judgment. You’ve made up your mind about me, right?” Baekhyun waited for Kyungsoo to answer, but he said nothing. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

They returned to their quietude, their heads pointed in opposite directions. In a room full of people, Baekhyun didn’t think he could feel so isolated, though at the same time, he felt watched, like an animal at the circus or the zoo. There was someone’s gaze glued on him, but no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find the pair of eyes that made the hair on his arms stand.

—

The sound systems were finally hooked up, and they still had ten minutes to spare. Not all the freshman had arrived yet, so even if they wanted to start, they unfortunately couldn’t.

Chanyeol sat back in his seat and looked out into the audience at the young, gorgeous girls that were standing around with nothing to do. He liked going after the younger girls. They were dumber, making them easier to get rid of. It was his natural instinct to stare at their legs first, and then travel up to their chests. If any girl excited him in even the slightest way, he’d pursue her and keep himself occupied for a day or two. However, in this process, anything above the woman’s chest was of very little importance. He wasn’t looking to tie himself down with a pretty face; he just wanted the body, and scarily enough, most girls were okay with it. A few would find themselves attached but Chanyeol had his own way of getting them to back off. The talent remained a worthy mystery to his bandmates for years.

It was strange though, how he eventually found a face that intrigued him so. He wasn’t even looking for it, but beauty always had a way of making itself visible to Chanyeol. Out of the thirty-something faces, this one glowed like no other, though that wasn’t the biggest factor that caught him. Rather than it being a girl who piqued his interest, it was a boy, with the grace and beauty of an angel. The only bad thing was that he was sitting down, so Chanyeol didn’t even get a chance to check out his body, but he had no doubt that it was amazing.

 _Now that would be a good fuck,_ Chanyeol thought. He was just about drooling all over himself until Jongin smacked his arm.

“Yeol, we’re on in 60. Are you ready yet?”

“Say what?”

“We’re on in less than a minute. Can you manage, or are you still fantasizing about your fuck date tonight?”

Chanyeol grinned and shook his head, skillfully twirling his drum sticks in both his hands. “I was born ready.”

—

The “music” was utter noise. Baekhyun cringed throughout each lyric and was tempted to cover his ears, only he didn’t because he knew it was a rude gesture everyone could see. Kyungsoo was blocking him before, but he had disappeared into the crowd for some time now, and it shocked Baekhyun, for he didn’t peg Kyungsoo as a person who’d jump into the middle of a cheering audience.

He checked his watch for the hundredth time. It was only 6:40 in the evening. The agenda he was given stated that the Welcome Concert wouldn’t end until eight. Baekhyun heaved a sigh and hung his head. What a great start to the school year.

He tossed around the idea of leaving early when it seemed as though the band would play forever and Kyungsoo would never return, but then they stopped, and he did. Baekhyun could see his breath as he practically skipped over to the table and sat down. “Did you enjoy that?” Baekhyun asked.

“I wasn’t bopping to the music. I was looking for my girlfriend.”

Baekhyun furrowed his brows. “Girlfriend? Wow, didn’t see _that_ coming.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Can we leave though? I think I’m going deaf.” The way Kyungsoo’s expression changed so suddenly startled Baekhyun. “Oh, I didn’t—did I offend you? I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m just surprised. You really don’t like this?”

“What’s there to like?” Baekhyun turned towards the band. “They’re a bunch of amateurs. Their music is—”

Kyungsoo put a hand up to Baekhyun’s lips. “Are you trying to get yourself killed out here? They run this fucking academy. It’s a death wish, talking down on them.”

“Is that so? I was always taught that it’s okay to have an opinion of your own.”

“That’s because you don’t know any of those guys up there.”

That wasn’t much of a reason for Baekhyun to withdraw his stance on the band, Baekhyun realized. “Why don’t you enlighten me then, dear guide? Tell me what I don’t know.”

Kyungsoo raised a brow at the underlying tone in Baekhyun’s voice. It wasn’t sarcasm, but it wasn’t serious either. It sounded almost like he was making fun of Kyungsoo for defending the band, but he had his reasons. If Baekhyun was looking to be “enlightened,” he had certainly asked the right person. “Take notes then. First of all, each of them is a music major, so I hate to break it to you that they know what they’re doing.”

It felt like Kyungsoo was slapping Baekhyun on the wrist the way parents do to their children. Baekhyun snickered, stifling the rest of his words as Kyungsoo’s entire face was dyed red. Moving onto their own personal orientation, Kyungsoo pointed at the blond man with a baby face on the far left. “Oh Sehun, junior, bass. He talks a lot of punch and likes to instigate even though he looks like a child to everyone.” Then, Kyungsoo moved his finger to the man directly behind the blond. He had honey brown hair, messily brushed back. “Kim Minseok, senior, keyboard. He’s the eldest, and has the shortest temper. He’d break you in one swift motion.” They traveled across the stage to a where couple more men stood. Kyungsoo focused on the one with his black locks gelled back first. “The one in back is Zhang Yixing, senior exchange student, acoustic. He’s the nicest out of them all but he’ll still rip you to shreds if you talk badly about them.”

Before Kyungsoo could move on, Baekhyun burst out in laughter. “I can’t believe this. Why am I so amused?”

“Oh, it gets worse.”

“As in more ridiculous than it already is?”

As if he were agreeing with Baekhyun, Kyungsoo nodded his head and gulped. “Up front is Kim Jongin, senior, electric, lead singer.”

“You call _that_ singing?”

“That’s the most you’ll ever hear his voice. If he’s not on stage, he quieter than silence itself. I can’t help but wonder how those closest to him survive without the sound of his voice.”

In that moment, Baekhyun’s jokes subsided. He was drawn into Kyungsoo’s air, where the ambience was different and much softer than before. He wasn’t even fixated on Baekhyun anymore, which made it easier for the latter to detect the feelings that were running through Kyungsoo’s head and heart. A visible, complex history was carved into the longing look that yearned for said guitarist. It was severed, their connection, and from those few extra seconds of gawking at an oblivious Kyungsoo, it was clear that no amends could be made.

And just like that, Baekhyun started believing the girlfriend story a little less. “I think there’s one more, right? The drummer?” Baekhyun said, hoping to steer their conversation back to what it was.

“Ah, the drummer...” After a couple minutes of stillness, he started again. “That is Park Chanyeol. He’s a senior, too. He and Jongin are brothers.”

Confusion washed over Baekhyun’s face. “What? They don’t even have the same surname.”

“ _Step_ brothers.”

“I see. Anything I should know about him?”

Unlike the other four band members, Kyungsoo took a while to find words to describe the drummer. If Baekhyun didn’t know better, he’d have thought that his trusty guide didn’t know him well enough to say something, or maybe he knew him too well to accurately portray him just through a brief remark, but that wasn’t the case at all. Just like with Jongin, there was undeniable tension between Kyungsoo and this Chanyeol guy. Baekhyun wondered what was linking the three of them together, and by then, he had written his own soap opera. “Is he the one nobody remembers because all he does is sit in the back and beat the living hell out of a couple cylinders?”

What came out of Kyungsoo’s lips couldn’t even be described as a scoff. “You’re fucking kidding, right? He’s the ‘leader’ of the pack. There’s always one who acts like he’s above everyone else, like the student body is a pyramid and he’s the very tip of it. He’s the only one people remember because he’s any and everywhere, even when you don’t want him to be.” Kyungsoo ran a hand through his hair with a groan. “If you want an easy four years, avoid him at all costs.”

“You make him sound like such a bad person,” Baekhyun pointed out.

“I can’t say he doesn’t have a good side, but I know it has never been tapped into. My best advice for you is to never say anything when you’re within a ten-foot radius of Park Chanyeol.”

“How far from him do you think we are right now?”

“Just...don’t say anything. Ever.”

And once again, Kyungsoo was gone from Baekhyun’s sight—only this time, he didn’t come back.

 

* * *

 

The one thing Baekhyun wished he would’ve done before classes began was actually look for his classes. He had no idea where any of the buildings were, and the names of the rooms were a mixture of letters and numbers that didn’t come together nicely, unlike what he was used to. It made him nervous, not knowing. No one else seemed to have trouble finding where they needed to be. He swore to himself that if he got lost on his first day, he’d go home and never return.

Twenty minutes of searching, and he finally spotted the Arts building that wound up being right beside his dorm. He couldn’t believe he circled the entire campus to look for something that was literally right in front of him. He angrily pushed through the doors and headed for the main hallway.

Room AH243.

From the directory board, Baekhyun knew he had to go upstairs to the second floor, and now his new problem was finding the stairs or elevator to help him get up there. The hallways kept intersecting with each other no matter which one he rushed through as well, making the process much harder than it needed to be. At last, he found a stairwell in one of the most abandoned corners of the building.

He took a few steps with ease, his only concern being whether or not he’d make it to class on time. But then a heavy feeling settled into his blood, weighing his entire body down until he came to a complete stop at the top of the first flight, where a figure leaned against the rail and intentionally blocked the way.

Baekhyun swallowed. His mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario: This student was going to beat him until he was nothing but a writhing ball of pain on the cold floor, fighting for his final breath before passing out. It was going to be like a high school beatdown, only more painful and embarrassing. Baekhyun thought he was through with this drama-filled phase of his life. Why was he about to experience it again?

With his eyes shut, he took a deep breath. “Make it fast. I have class soon.” The man ended up laughing. His voice was rich, and it echoed rhythmically in Baekhyun’s ears, which only made him even more afraid. He peeled open his eyes, coming face to face with a certain drummer. Chanyeol, he recalled. “Oh my God.”

“Oh, that’s my cue. Hey cutie.”

His breath suddenly caught in his throat, Baekhyun took a few steps back, as if it’d help him escape, but the other male moved more rapidly than he could. Before Baekhyun knew it, he was pinned up against a wall, two extremely long arms keeping him barred in a little prison of his own.

Baekhyun thrashed his head to the side to avoid eye contact. “Please let me go.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person.” Baekhyun exhaled and then turned to the other side. Every last limb of his twitched under the pressure of the drummer’s gaze, and he could only wonder how not a single soul passed through this stairwell while he was being held hostage. Baekhyun pleaded once more in a soft voice. “I have to go...”

“I assume you already know who I am,” the colossus said, his voice lively and delighted. “Good, because that’ll make this so much easier.”

“What do you want from me?”

They were woven into a calm that lasted no more than ten seconds as Chanyeol took Baekhyun by his chin and made him face him. “Everything. I want everything.”

“That’s a pity, because I’m not into guys.”

Chanyeol smirked and leaned in close. “I spy with my sexy eyes a liar. You wouldn’t be trembling, and your heart wouldn’t be beating so hard if even the smallest bit of you didn’t want—” A hard, stinging blow landed on Chanyeol’s cheek, cutting his statement short.

Baekhyun’s legs were quick in leading him back down the path from which he came. _That did not just happen, that did not just happen, dear God, that did not just happen._  Baekhyun felt his humanity dripping from his body, his spirit leaving him as good as dead. He didn’t care to look at where he was going, for all that was on his mind was getting as far away from Chanyeol as possible, until he met the force of another person hindering his escape. Another familiar male, Baekhyun observed, with sun-kissed skin and heavy eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, moving in to help Baekhyun up on his feet.

“No, I’m sorry! I gotta go though!” Baekhyun cried in response. He hopped on his feet and made no more of the matter, sprinting for the nearest hallway to jump into.

—

A smile slowly crept up on Jongin’s face as he watched the little student disappear around the corner. He didn’t get a good glimpse of who the person was, but from the way he ran, Jongin could tell his brother had something to do with it, and the sound of hefty footsteps rang in his ears as he turned to his left. He didn’t have a doubt in mind that it was going to be Chanyeol coming out of those doors.

Moments later, it was just as he had expected. “Chanyeol, what are you—why is your cheek pink?”

“The brat slapped me,” Chanyeol answered through his tightly gritted teeth. “Agh, he’s lucky he’s hot or I would’ve pushed him down those stairs.”

“How romantic. No wonder he ran for his life.”

“Shut up, Jongin. You don’t get it.”

“But I think I do. For once, you like someone who doesn’t like you back, and you don’t know what to do about it because all your life, you’ve always gotten what you wanted.”

Chanyeol shot his brother a death glare before letting out a puff of frustration. “Okay, fine. You’re right, again. But I want him. I don’t care what I have to go through to get his stubborn ass under me, on me, beside me, all of the above.”

Normally, Jongin would just nod and agree with everything that Chanyeol said, but there was an incessant need within him that made him speak without thinking it through beforehand. “Do you think it’s really going to be worth your time? What if you’re pursuing the wrong person?” Jongin rested his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder and squeezed it. “You know nothing about him. You only know what Kyungsoo told you, and how can you trust him?”

A part of Chanyeol ached. Right or wrong, Jongin was only bringing up a valid point that Chanyeol hadn’t taken the time to consider before acting upon his urges, but at that time, he was also sure that he would be irresistible to the freshman. That clearly wasn’t the case, so Chanyeol had to question himself as well: Was this just a waste of time?

He could have anyone he laid eyes on. Why was he chasing someone who didn’t see how lucky he was to have Chanyeol approaching him first? With the throbbing in his cheek came the image of Baekhyun’s perfect shape. Even if the slap hurt, it was beautiful in its own twisted way. The storm in his mind eventually settled. All his questions, answered or not, didn’t matter. He had never felt such harsh tugs at his heartstrings before, and even if it put an end to him, Chanyeol swore to himself that he would get what he wanted. And Chanyeol didn’t hesitate to verbalize his desires either.

“If that’s what you really want,” was all Jongin could respond with, because even he knew that his brother could not be swayed once he made up his mind.


	2. “Give Me Your Number”

It had been three days since the incident that had Baekhyun looking over his shoulder every time he went anywhere by himself. He was beginning to think his fear of Chanyeol was irrational, but the second he remembered everything Kyungsoo had said to him about the drummer, it didn’t seem so groundless anymore. He had every reason to be afraid, seeing as how he had involuntarily done the one thing Kyungsoo warned him not to do: provoke Park Chanyeol.

On that third morning, Baekhyun luckily caught Kyungsoo before he left for class. He usually never woke up in time to see his roommate, but he hadn’t slept all night and was out of bed before the crack of dawn.

Kyungsoo walked into the darkness of the living room, expecting to be able to sneak out without a single soul noticing, just like he did every morning. He carefully turned the knob on the wall to let a little light shine into the room so he could find his shoes, though when he heard someone shuffling, he yelped and turned around to find his roommate sitting up on the sofa.

“Oh my fuck!” Kyungsoo panted, his hands covering his heart. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep. It’s been a rough start.”

“Baekhyun, it hasn’t even been a week yet. How could it be rough already?” Although Kyungsoo already knew what he’d say, he felt compelled to ask anyway.

“He came after me. That drummer.”

“Chanyeol?” His acting skills had never been so on point before.  _Thank you, Intro to Theater._  “What would he want with you?”

Baekhyun swallowed a huge lump of anxiety and stood up to match Kyungsoo’s eye level. “He wants ‘everything.’ Or so he claims. I-I’m not even gay. How could I give him everything? What’ll happen if I don’t give in to his demands?”

“But you... _are_ gay, right?” Baekhyun looked down at his feet for a long while, choosing not to say anything instead of giving a straight answer. It only prompted Kyungsoo to speak up with what he thought was the truth. “So, yes, you are. You know, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

When he started giggling out of nowhere, Baekhyun frowned. “It’s not funny. I am nothing but scared right now. What is he going to do to me? For some really creepy reason, you know a lot about him, and I need to know everything you know.”

As the last word left Baekhyun’s mouth, his roommate took the liberty of stepping back to put some distance between them. Kyungsoo felt many things running through him right then, but guilt was the strongest of them all, for in the past three days, he had done some things he wasn’t too proud of for no reason other than sheer boredom. He admitted that it felt good to be selfish for once, seeing as how he had always done things for the sake of others, but looking at the sincerity in Baekhyun’s eyes made him reevaluate his actions, and he just couldn’t do it anymore.

“What do you want to know?”

The question took Baekhyun by surprise. He had his heart set on not getting any real information, but he didn’t give Kyungsoo any time to change his mind about speaking up. “What’s going to become of me if I don’t comply?”

“That honestly depends on his level of interest in you. If you’re just another fling, he’ll never come for you after the first encounter.” As though frozen, Kyungsoo stopped rather abruptly and didn’t even think about continuing until the other male nudged him on the arm to remind him that half of the truth was just as bad as none of it. Sighing, Kyungsoo began again, only the pace of his words were slowed down. “This only happens once in a blue moon, but if he really wants you for whatever reason he may have, he’s never going to stop coming after you. I told you already: He is any and everywhere. Even, _and especially,_ if you don’t want him to be.”

“But I don’t get it,” Baekhyun whispered, his voice on the verge of pleading. “Why me? I never did anything—”

“You don’t have to do something to draw his attention. I regret to inform you that being yourself is plenty.” Kyungsoo pulled out his phone and checked the time. Once he realized he was more than ten minutes overdue, he moved towards the door. “I have a class in twenty, and I was gonna grab some coffee. You’re more than welcome to come along, but since you don’t have class for another hour and a half, you don’t have to.”

Baekhyun denied the invitation, shaking his head, and watched his roommate leave in swift strides. He didn’t want to be a burden to Kyungsoo, who seemed to be in a rush of some sort to leave the dorm.

However, it was only a while after Baekhyun had been standing there alone under the dim lights that he became aware of something he had completely disregarded in the midst of his uneasiness: He never discussed his class schedule with Kyungsoo.

—

His life was like a Harry Potter novel, and he was an owl.

From the second he stepped foot on his doormat, Kyungsoo’s tread had no choice but to be rushed on his way to the café. Chanyeol didn’t tolerate lateness for anyone, which was quite ironic, considering he wasn’t a very punctual person himself. Kyungsoo reckoned he’d arrive before the other, but it was better to be there early.

Most of the seats were taken when he arrived, sweaty and panting for his life, though he luckily spotted a table that was stuffed away near the rear windows and seized the opportunity before anyone else could. It was a relief to finally be able to breathe, even if it was only for a minute. He settled down comfortably, taking in each breath as though it was his last, and lingered in anticipation, his earbuds plugged tightly into his ears to keep him as far away from others as possible.

A shadow loomed overhead by the time his music had shuffled to the third song, and he knew without looking up who was nosily hovering. When it came to Chanyeol, his presence was so strong that no one ever had a doubt about him.

Kyungsoo looked up, eyes widened and mouth slightly gaping. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, that I am. Do you have any news on him?” Classic Chanyeol. He never wasted a moment to get what he wanted. “What am I up against here?”

“You’re not going to war, Chanyeol.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Soo. He’s a hardheaded hottie who slapped me.”

“Do you know that ever since I sent you that picture of his agenda, I haven’t been able to sleep? And if I do, I wake up drenched in the sweat of my nightmares—”

Chanyeol slapped his hand down on the table. “I’m sorry, okay? But I didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and I saw you guys together at the Welcome Concert.”

“You don’t have to tell me again,” Kyungsoo said bluntly. “I think I got the gist of it the first five times. Just know that it’s a yes. He definitely rolls your way.”

“I knew it! There was no way a face that pretty could not be!”

Kyungsoo let out a small chortle, for he thought the same thing of Baekhyun, as well. He would’ve liked to make a funny remark, pointing out their scarily similar way of thinking, but he knew it wouldn’t have changed the fact that they had more differences than they did likenesses. They always did.

Rather than squandering their short meeting with useless thoughts, Kyungsoo rummaged through his coat pocket and fished out a white note. He slid it across the table. “This is what you asked for, and I hope it’ll be enough for now. I want to come clean to him.”

Chanyeol unfolded the piece of paper and skimmed through the neat lines on which Baekhyun had written down his quirks, likes, dislikes, and anything else that helped the Rooming Board decide on where to put him. Even with that in his careless hands, Chanyeol didn’t look pleased at all. “Soo, where’s his phone number?”

“I don’t have that on paper.”

“Damn it,” Chanyeol sighed, stuffing the paper away in his jacket pocket. “Fine. That’s just fine. I’ll get it myself. Thanks.”

Without a word, Kyungsoo stood up, ready to excuse himself. He actually did have a class to get to, and he couldn’t afford another moment of delay, though it just so happened to work out that way in the end. He barely passed by Chanyeol’s seat on his way out, and as he did, Chanyeol grabbed him by the arm. Kyungsoo winced.

“I’m sorry, Soo,” he said in his most gentle voice. “For everything. I hope that we can come up with a way to be friends again. I’m really sorry.”

But Kyungsoo had never truly found a way to bleed out the bitterness he kept bottled inside. He had heard somewhere before that time was supposed to help him heal from his wounds, even though he was sure that as his life progressed, he was just going to get more salt into the cuts and gashes, and he’d be stuck with resentment in his veins forever.

A tinge of sadness colored his tone. “I am, too.”

 

* * *

 

The weekend finally arrived after what felt like five years rather than five days. Baekhyun was shocked that he managed to survive his first week of college with little to no hiccups, and aside from the episode in the stairwell, everything looked to be falling into place nicely. He was even invited to a party that night by the biggest party animal on campus, who Baekhyun was shocked to discover wasn’t Chanyeol and his posse.

So far, so good. There was _actually_ a division of the campus that didn’t involve that band of assholes, and Baekhyun was going to be a part of it.

Baekhyun initially wanted to ask Kyungsoo to accompany him when he received the invitation, since he didn’t think he’d know anyone there, but his roommate hadn’t been home since lunch and by the time he finished prepping, he was officially late. Baekhyun couldn’t afford to wait any longer. He left a sloppy note on the kitchen counter that read,  _Out @ Kris’ place. Stop by if you know where?_ and began on his way.

Kris Wu lived in building nine, which was luckily in the same general area as where Baekhyun’s dorm was. The closer he was to his temporary home, the better. He passed by number seven slowly to take in the scenery of the lampposts shedding their light on the winter ground. Each ray fell gracefully on the cold dust, giving Baekhyun something to follow until he reached the sidewalk that led up to building nine.

The party wasn’t the least bit subtle. Music blasted through the tiniest cracks in the walls and echoed against the breeze; lights of a variety of colors flashed like police sirens; indistinct conversations amid smokers on a smoke break about how amazing the party was sounded in the form of whispers. Baekhyun grinned to himself and proceeded toward the doors, just before a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him into the shadows of the night.

—

With one hand covering his mouth and the other binding his arms to the sides of his body, Baekhyun was rendered completely useless by his mysterious kidnapper. He didn’t think he’d ever see the light of day again. They just kept going further and further away from where there were people, and when Baekhyun had the courage to open his eyes, there were no longer any buildings around, either.

It wasn’t until they stopped moving and Baekhyun felt the person violently turn him around so they’d be facing each other that he registered the severity of his situation, because those eyes were unmistakable. His back hit a hard, bumpy surface, most likely a tree, shortly after he knew who he had become a victim of. The hand that veiled his mouth was removed, but the one around his body tightened.

Baekhyun would’ve screamed, if he had been able to make any noise at all, but he was too stunned and afraid to do so much as breathe.

“So we meet again,” Chanyeol murmured slyly. “I wish this would’ve happened sooner. I couldn’t wait to see you all week.” The small male trembled under his hold, making Chanyeol nothing but happy. It fueled his fire. “How rude of me. Hello, beautiful.”

“Stop calling me that!” Baekhyun was finally able to spit out. And then there was more, and it wouldn’t stop. “What are you doing here? Why are you everywhere? Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone? Where did you take me? How did you know when to follow me?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”

Baekhyun tried squirming and grunting and doing practically everything in his power to break free even though in the back of his mind, he knew it was a waste of time and effort. “Just let me go. I have a party to get to.”

“Oh, you mean the one I just saved you from?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’d be surprised to know I’m not the worst human being at this place. If I didn’t hijack you, you would be a human buffet right about now.” When Baekhyun’s face didn’t revert back to its natural state, Chanyeol decided to explain further. “That ‘party’ that you were invited to isn’t actually a party. Every year, the upperclassmen select their favorite freshman and they—”

“Don’t finish that sentence! I-I don’t want to hear it, and your voice is annoying me.”

The chains, also known as Chanyeol’s arms, loosened. “That doesn’t sound like a ‘thank you’ to me.”

“Okay, wise-ass, I didn’t ask for you to come after me!”

“So hostile. That’s okay, then. I don’t want a thank you. I’ll take something else instead.”

The stupidity radiating off of Chanyeol was contaminating the air quality all around Baekhyun. He wasn’t offering anything else, and he was sure he made that clear already. “Listen, I’m not interested.”

“Give me your number.”

“I just said I’m not—”

“And I said give me your number.” Chanyeol smirked, closing the space between their bodies. “That way, you’ll always know when I’m coming to your rescue.”

Baekhyun scoffed, and upon noticing that he was no longer being tethered, he gave Chanyeol a nice little shove. “You’re ridiculous to think I’d give you my number. The only thing that’s going to happen is I’m going to go back to my dorm, and you’re going to go back to wherever you came from. And we are never going to meet again.”

Amusedly, Chanyeol chuckled. “I respect your creativity, but it’s not going to be that easy. If I want you, then you’re mine. Without question.”

“Are you really okay with me being the one to prove you wrong?”

It had never occurred to Chanyeol that Baekhyun had such a sharp tongue, which made him even more delighted. He craned his head low enough so that his lips were right up against Baekhyun’s ears. “We’ll see who’s the one being proven wrong when I have you pinned down on my bed, begging and pleading for me to never stop.”

“Never stop wh-what?” Baekhyun groaned, his breath hitching in the open spaces of Chanyeol’s words.

“If I tell you now, it won’t be fun later.”

This time, Chanyeol got the dramatic exit, and Baekhyun was left behind, stupefied beyond belief.

—

All Kyungsoo had to see was one word to know that Baekhyun was in the way of cruel danger: Kris. There were so many things he had warned the freshman about, yet he couldn’t believe he had forgotten that smug bastard. He knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, considering the fact that Baekhyun only ever had questions regarding Chanyeol, but it still should’ve crossed his mind to at least mention that an evil prankster resided two buildings down.

He flew down two flights of stairs and made for building nine just in time to see Baekhyun take his first few strides before a slender figure cut into the picture and took him away. Kyungsoo didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that Baekhyun was now in Chanyeol’s hands, but he went after them anyways, out of sheer curiosity.

They disappeared behind the structures of the dormitories into a small forest of trees where most students went to do their homework under the convenient shade. They clearly weren’t going there for a study date, though.

Kyungsoo watched them bicker back and forth. He couldn’t hear a single word being exchanged, but he got the basic gist of the argument when he saw Chanyeol press his body against Baekhyun’s. That meant he was in the middle of saying something that had Baekhyun questioning his existence.

A gentle gust of wind kissed Kyungsoo’s cheek as he noticed Chanyeol backing away from Baekhyun and heading straight toward him while the latter stood beside the tree, dumbfounded. Now, he genuinely wanted to know what was going on, but he wasn’t going to get any answers from Chanyeol. He forced himself into a shadow and held his breath until he saw that the drummer was too far to see him, and then he ran to Baekhyun.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo called, hoping to get his roommate’s attention. “Hey, Baekhyun! Are you okay? I got your note!”

Baekhyun’s head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice. “Oh, you did? How did you find me here?”

“I know Kris. His real name is Wu Yifan, and he’s a terrible person, and I didn’t want you to get caught in his web of evilness, so I ran after you. I saw...I saw Chanyeol take you.”

“You did?” Kyungsoo nodded. “So, can I ask you something then?”

“It’s a little chilly out. You want to go home and get a cup of coffee first?”

Reluctantly, Baekhyun shook his head and slid down the tree trunk. Kyungsoo followed suit. They sat side by side quietly, both thankful that the January weather wasn’t as harsh this year as it was all the others years prior, though the light snow soaked through their jeans and some flakes fell from the branches onto their heads. If there weren’t traces of little glistening crystals decorating the ground, neither of them would’ve guessed that it was early-January. It certainly wasn’t cold enough to be.

Kyungsoo turned to Baekhyun after several minutes of blankly staring off into space. “What was it you wanted to ask?”

“How many guys has Chanyeol been with?”

“Uh, why?”

Baekhyun inhaled sharply and drew his knees closer to his chest. “Because I’m wondering what sets me apart from everyone else. Why does he keep acting like I’m the only person he can go after? I don’t want to be a part of this sick game. He scares me.”

“What do you mean? Why are you scared of him?”

“He-he reminds me of somebody that I used to know. Everything about him, from the way he talks to the way he walks...and the way he looks at me. I think he wants to hurt me.”

It was then that Kyungsoo gave his undivided attention to Baekhyun. He didn’t care enough to take notice of the way Chanyeol chose to express his interest before, but the sincerity in Baekhyun’s voice made him want to go back in time and watch everything unfold between them. Fear wasn’t the common emotion associated with Chanyeol. Men admired him; women adored him.

“Baekhyun, he won’t hurt you. He is many things, from annoying to creepy to obsessive, but Chanyeol is not violent.”

“Certainly comes off that way.”

Before this point, Kyungsoo never imagined that he’d ever be defending Chanyeol. However, he didn’t have the courage to do it while he was so close to another person. He slid up the tree trunk and got on his feet. “You can’t decide who he is before you get to know him. That’s not the way things work, and it’s cruel.”

“Does it really matter though? Some people choose to show their true colors first.”

“It makes no difference, the colors they reveal to you to begin with. It’s what becomes of those colors, and how well they mix with your own shades.”

Baekhyun snickered and reached for Kyungsoo’s aid in standing. “We turned a conversation about Chanyeol into one about art. They clearly don’t fit hand in hand, though.”

They ambled home under the canvas of stars, and during this time, Kyungsoo tried his hardest to come up with a refute for Baekhyun’s claim. He was absolutely wrong to say that the two were unsuitable together, because as far as Kyungsoo was concerned, Chanyeol _was_ a piece of art.

—

If there was one thing that rattled Chanyeol’s cage and turned him into a madman, it was when people messed with the things that belonged to him. The thought of foreign fingertips dirtying his possessions was intolerable. Everything he owned was meant to be exclusive, and all his life, he learned that greed was the only key to eternity.

Chanyeol stormed into Kris’ dorm with quite the ember in his chest lit up, ready to charge at the first person who got in his way. He was only there to see Kris and set some boundaries. He had no intention of staying longer than he needed to.

As did all the other doors Chanyeol had ever come to, the one to Kris’ home automatically opened for him to walk through, and he did so with the same amount of ease as someone who lived there would’ve. Everyone gaped at him, like they couldn’t believe he was actually at one of their house parties.

“Where’s Wu?” he practically shouted, ignoring all the people asking him why he was there like the nosy imbeciles each and every one of them were.

“What the hell do you want, Park?”

Chanyeol followed the voice to the back of the room, and when he and Kris met eyes, the ground shook. The pathway separating them opened up, and Chanyeol beckoned to the other male to step outside. To this, Kris broke into laughter.

“Come on, Park. Anything you have to say to me, you can say to my guests. You know that.”

“Are you sure? Because I’d hate to have to embarrass somebody with such a big face in front of his friends.”

“You must think you’re some sort of high power, coming into my house—”

“Oh good, you’re already on board with the whole ‘Don’t fuck with my shit’ concept, so listen closely. If you ever do so much as look at Byun Baekhyun ever again, I will drag you to hell myself.”

Kris set down the drink in his hand and approached the other male with a harsh mien. “You mean that hot piece of freshman ass? I didn’t know he was already claimed.”

“Well, now you do, and you need to stay the fuck away from him.”

“Why does it matter to you anyways, Park? You don’t settle, right? You’re going through an awful lot of trouble for someone you’re gonna fuck and leave in a couple days.”

Chanyeol scowled, his fists clenched and heart racing. The urge to wrestle Kris down and smash him to pulp nearly took over his body, but he knew he had two choices. There were always two choices. He could either stay and stoop down to the level of scum, or he could walk away, cool down, and wait until the line he had drawn was crossed, and since the latter sounded much more appealing to him, he backed out of the room. The dingy corridor smelled better anyway.

 

* * *

 

Baekhyun had been thinking again. Two days was a rather long time to do so for something so miniscule, but he had a tendency of putting too much thought into the littlest details, so it felt moderately normal while he sat at his desk, the cap of his pen wedged between his teeth, deep in his musings. He had been debating for the past six hours.

 _It couldn’t hurt to just...write,_ he told himself in his lame attempt to scribble something down. He stared holes into the yellow flimsy on top of his desk, his head caught between two large rocks. His judgment of himself was changing slowly. Would Kyungsoo’s impression of him alter as well if he knew what Baekhyun was up to?

He sighed, realizing that he didn’t have time to concern himself with someone else’s opinion, and leaned over the desk, the tip of his pen resting in the center of his piece of paper. He shut his eyes, letting his hand run free until he finished writing. Looking it over, he felt a sense of satisfaction and uncertainty simultaneously filling him. He stood from his chair and headed for the door. There was barely any time for him to talk himself out of what he was going to do.

After a few steps, Baekhyun was in the living room, where Kyungsoo was sitting on the sofa reading a book, and upon catching a glimpse of red in his peripheral view, he routinely set his items aside.

“Hey, Baekhyun. What’s up?” he asked nonchalantly. He wasn’t expecting a response.

“I want to ask you for a favor, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh, okay. Shoot.”

Baekhyun held out the crumpled piece of paper. He was so nervous before that he didn’t even notice he had clenched his fist shut while his note was in his hand. “Do you think you could like...find someone who’d be able to pass this onto Chanyeol?”

“What is it?” Kyungsoo couldn’t find his self-control. He wound up unfolding the note anyway despite his inquiry and skimmed the neatly recorded digits across the middle, each of them spaced evenly away from one another. It looked like Baekhyun had spent a lot of time writing them. “Oh, so you’re interested now?”

“It’s just my number. Doesn’t mean I’m going to sprawl out on a slice of bread and wait for him to—”

“Ah, don’t! I-I’ll get it to him. I don’t talk to him, but I’ll figure it out.”

Baekhyun’s heavy breathing toned down. He plopped himself down right beside his roommate and leaned back against the cushion. “Do you think it’ll be okay? Will I regret this?”

A moment of silence weaved its way into the air. Kyungsoo smiled and played with the memo he was supposed to deliver, feeling partially bitter that he was once again stuck being their messenger. It was even worse now that the messages weren’t one-sided anymore, but he presumed he had kept Baekhyun on the edge of his seat long enough already. He could pout later.

“Everything’s going to be fine. I just hope you don’t get nauseated easily.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re in for one hell of a roller coaster ride, kiddo. The loops never end, and you keep going higher and higher...until you are more terrified to come back down than you are to continue.” Kyungsoo watched Baekhyun’s expression venture through a thousand derivatives of anxiety. He gave a half-hearted grin. “Good luck.”


	3. “Fine, Let’s Be Friends”

The weather was in perfect sync with Baekhyun’s mood. It had been snowing continuously for the past twelve hours. If the snowflakes weren’t piling up on top of each other on the ground, they fell and sat on the windowpane of the cafeteria’s main windows before sliding down the glass in an elegant manner. He stared without blinking at the gloominess.

Inside, where he was waiting in single file to pay for his lunch, was equally somber. The students, unlike their usual selves, were so quiet that Baekhyun had forgotten he wasn’t the only person there trying to get a decent meal that afternoon. At last, the line moved forward, and he was only two blonde girls away from getting to eat. He was lucky they were the type of girls who were insanely obsessed with how much they weighed despite being the perfect size, so they each only had an apple and were quickly shooed out of the way while he stepped up and slid his rice bowl forward. Did it make him feel awful coming up after the two of them? Sure. Did he care? Of course, but not in that precise moment.

“How much? Oh, and a bottle of water please.”

The student cashier punched in a few keys on his touchpad. “That’ll be an even eight.”

Just as Baekhyun reached into his pocket for his money, a rather large hand extended right in front of his eyes with a bill all ready to be taken. Baekhyun whipped his head around.

“Keep the change,” Chanyeol said, nodding at the cashier. He looked down at Baekhyun and smirked that annoying smirk that was somehow charming at the same time. “Hello, beautiful.”

“What are you doing?”

“Paying for your lunch. Can I carry this for you?” Chanyeol didn’t wait to be told no and picked up the food anyway. He walked in short strides for Baekhyun’s sake, who was too dumbfounded to move for the first few seconds. Chanyeol stopped and went back. “Come on now, beautiful. It’s only going to get more and more crowded.”

Baekhyun reluctantly trotted behind the taller male, his head hanging low until they had finished weaving their way through people and chairs and came to a table near the walking aisle, where Chanyeol pulled out a seat for him. He sat in it slowly. He wasn’t used to being served. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that for me. I’m very capable of doing it myself.”

“I just wanted to help.” Chanyeol then plopped down in the seat next to him, saying no more. He kept his gaze glued on Baekhyun’s every delicate movement and did nothing to hide his admiration.

On the other end of that longing look was Baekhyun and his uncomfortability. Despite having had his number passed along just the day before, he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk face to face with Chanyeol just yet. It was a big step. What was he even supposed to say? There were not enough words in the world to fill the void that sat in the middle of them, and the only place he could begin, since it was evident that Chanyeol wasn’t going to leave him be, was where he knew no harm could come.

“How are you?” Baekhyun mumbled, popping open the lid of his rice bowl to indicate that he really didn’t want an answer and only asked out of courtesy. As if it would make a difference.

“I’m feeling especially lucky today.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Thanks to you. You know, this is the first time we’ve had a real conversation that didn’t result in you running off in the opposite direction.”

Baekhyun bobbed his head lightly. He had to think it over, too, and Chanyeol was right. “Uh-huh, yeah, I know.”

“So, would we call this progress then?”

“Uh, no. Not progress.”

The vagueness in Baekhyun’s answers should’ve been off-putting and discouraging, but Chanyeol managed to turn it into a boost of energy. “What made you give in, beautiful?”

It was quiet for a moment while Baekhyun took in the question. “I don’t think I understand what you’re asking.”

“Why’d you decide to give me your number? I thought you hated me. What, do you want some of this now?” Chanyeol pretended to unbutton his jacket, making Baekhyun jump.

“No! Absolutely not! No way. I didn’t ‘give in.’ I just believe that everybody deserves a chance to make something of themselves.”

“Are you implying that I’m nothing? That’s not really fair, is it?”

Baekhyun buried his face in his hands and shook his head, groaning loudly at the misunderstanding that was brought on by this sudden interrogation. He had never felt irritation rise up so quickly in his chest before. “I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I’m kinda weird. I have an image of who everyone is before I actually get to know them. It sounds backwards but that’s just who I am and—”

“And I love it to bits,” Chanyeol interrupted, “though I wonder if you’ve ever heard of the saying, ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover.’ There’s too much you’ll miss out on if you do.”

“Hey, I call them as I see them. Besides, I don’t think you’re in much of a position to tell me that, seeing as how you’ve got me all...all figured out in your head. It’s shallow of you to say that.”

“But what you do isn’t?” It was beginning to seem as though everything Baekhyun had said was just a joke to Chanyeol, and nothing more. He had this sly mien on, his lips slanted in an arrogant style to prevent himself from bursting into a fit of chuckles. That wasn’t even the part that was bothering Baekhyun. What got under his skin and made him doubt himself was how he found it kind of attractive.

He forced himself out of his unwanted trance and glared intensely at Chanyeol, who was in the midst of undressing Baekhyun with his eyes. “Excuse you, sir. My face is up here.”

“I know,” Chanyeol said, yet he refused to move his eyes away, causing Baekhyun more uneasiness than he knew was possible. The smaller male pushed himself away from the table in one swift motion, and that was when Chanyeol became aware of his surroundings. Sticking one foot out behind Baekhyun’s chair, he prevented any further action. “Where are you going, beautiful?”

“As far away from you as I can right now. And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“I call them as I see them.”

“Don’t,” Baekhyun said warningly, his finger held up right in front of Chanyeol’s eyes. “I don’t like my words being used against me.”

“Get used to it sweetheart. No one can help you run from the fact that you’re mine.”

“Yours?” Baekhyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t recall having a price tag anywhere on his body, and he certainly wasn’t an item. How was it possible that he belonged to somebody? A disgusted look washed over his face. “You’re an incredibly awful person, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” Chanyeol said, stifling a titter. This time, he let Baekhyun stand and pack up his things, as though he was going to trek out of the building right then and there. They both knew, far in the back of their minds, that Baekhyun wasn’t going anywhere. He might’ve been upset, but he was already overinvested in everything about Chanyeol, which was obvious by the way he simply halted instead of sprinting off. Secretly, he hoped for Chanyeol to say something else so he could argue with it, and he did. “But why is it such an awful thing to want something? Are we not entitled to our own desires? Am I not allowed to go after you?”

“It’s one thing to want, and another thing to claim. I am not yours. I belong to nobody. The sooner you realize that, the happier you’ll be.”

By now, Chanyeol had followed the other male’s actions in rising from his seat. He towered over Baekhyun and breathed a river of aching hunger down his spine. It was his way of saying, “I don’t give a fuck, I still own you,” and he made sure that Baekhyun was aware of this when he ran his hands all the way from the smaller’s shoulders to his waist. “Remember when I told you that if I want you, then you’re mine?”

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, yes you are. You’re pretending not to know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not a rag doll you can play with and then throw aside! If you really want something from me, maybe you should try being my friend first. And just in case you don’t know, friends don’t use each other.” No more than three seconds after he spoke, Baekhyun made for the exit, taking everything he had along.

Chanyeol clicked his tongue in defeat, sank into his seat, and composed a rhythmic pattern on the tabletop with his fingers while he watched Baekhyun slip out of the cafeteria doors and down the main stairs. He could physically see echo rings coming from Baekhyun, and for a second or two, he felt sorry.

It was very rare of Chanyeol to put so much thought into somebody else’s words, particularly when they were meant to depress him, yet he dwelled for such a long period that two different waves of students had come and gone before he was able to break free. His lunch hour was over, and the only thing he could comprehend was the shame in him as he realized he’d never had a real friend. He had his bandmates, but who were they really in his life? The concept of friendship didn’t stick with him. It didn’t make sense, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to figure out how to keep a person in his life before the next time Baekhyun walked away from him.

 

* * *

 

Every once in a while, Chanyeol’s drums needed a fine tuning, which required him to listen carefully to each individual piece of the device as he struck it to figure out if he needed to tighten or loosen the drum heads. The process wasn’t complex; it was actually quite simple for any drummer. On a normal day, Chanyeol could’ve done it with both buds and muffs covering his ears, turning him deaf, but as he sat awkwardly in his seat that Tuesday evening at band practice, he couldn’t even hear properly.

He was forced to retune on multiple accounts, explicitly when he hit one of his toms and heard how it threw off the musical compositions they, his band, were trying to breeze through. By the eighth or ninth time, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned around to scowl at him with their eyes enlarged. It wasn’t like Chanyeol to mess up so much. He was usually the one who would jump down their throats if they failed to keep up with the tempo.

Jongin specifically couldn’t grasp what was happening to his supposedly flawless elder. He was captured between feeling angry and worried, but he spoke based on the former. “What are you doing over there, man? You’re throwing us all off! Our first gig is on Friday and we don’t have time for you to keep playing around with your instrument.”

“And he doesn’t mean the one that’s being held hostage in your pants,” Sehun said, slightly chuckling. The others joined in.

“Guys,” Chanyeol muttered, placing his drum sticks on his floor tom. His bandmates quieted down and listened, like always. “Are we friends? Like, _real_ friends?”

Out of the four men, only Minseok had the courage to step up and answer. “Of course, Yeol. Why wouldn’t we be?”

The responses came, scattered pathetically throughout the room. “Yeah, bro,” Sehun grumbled.

“Definitely,” Yixing exhaled.

And Jongin only stared. He hoped that Chanyeol wasn’t waiting for him to say something, because it was clear that they were more than friends. They lived under the same roof, went back to the same home every Christmas, New Year’s, and birthday, and split one big check every six months. How could they not be friends?

“I know I’ve been distant in the past, but I want you guys to know...you’re _all_ my brothers.” Chanyeol peeked at Jongin and bowed his head to unveil that he in no way was trying to demean the latter. “Though I don’t act like it a lot, or-or ever, honestly, I do care about you guys.”

There was no hesitation in Jongin as he unhooked his guitar and walked over to Chanyeol. He dragged him out of the room by his neck, his fingertips as good as glued to the other’s skin. When they were alone outside of the doors, Jongin let go. “What the hell is this about? Why are you getting disgustingly sentimental?”

“I wasn’t—”

“You scared them! Can’t you see it on their faces? And they know you only talk to them when you want something from them.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes gently and leaned against the wall for support. His legs felt like they were either going to turn into jelly or melt away like wax, and for once, he didn’t think he was strong enough to fight it. “The only thing I wanted from the guys was an answer, and I got some. I just don’t know how honest and sincere any of them were being.”

“That’s because you don’t know them at all.” Jongin followed suit and slid beside Chanyeol, putting all of his body weight on the brick surface, as well. “Is this about Baekhyun?”

“Wow, you almost sound interested.”

“You give me no choice. Just answer the question.”

Nodding, Chanyeol gave up his pride and crumbled. “He basically friend-zoned me, but he doesn’t want to be my friend either.”

It hit Jongin just as hard as it did Chanyeol, hearing it for the first time. “What were his exact words though?”

“No idea. I think it was something along the lines of, ‘You can keep dreaming about getting in my pants if you don’t try being my friend first.’ ”

“Sounds about right,” Jongin sighed, bending forward. He was partly fed up with his brother’s inane obsession with a freshman, but at the same time, Jongin couldn’t be happier to see somebody bring out all of Chanyeol’s weaknesses in one go. “May I suggest that you start listening to what he says, too?”

Chanyeol was quick to defend himself, jumping up almost instantaneously. “I always listen to what he says! What are you talking about? Are you telling me I’m not attentive?”

“No, of course not. You totally pay attention to what others say and you never outrageously blow up.”

“Okay, point taken.”

“It sounds acceptable to me, his proposal.”

“Yeah, except for one problem: I’ve never been friends with any of the people I’ve slept with. Hell, I can hardly remember their name after we’ve fucked!”

Knowing how much truth was in that statement, Jongin peeled himself off the cold wall and cracked open the door just enough for him to slip through. “From what I gather, he’s not like the others. You’ll figure it out.”

With that, Jongin left Chanyeol outside by himself, his thoughts floating no more than a couple centimeters away from him. Jongin was right about Baekhyun not being like the people in Chanyeol’s past, but who’d have ever known that being different would be so inconvenient for Chanyeol? He sure as hell didn’t, and clearly, Baekhyun didn’t either. Otherwise, the little freshman would have been much more cooperative with Chanyeol’s needs.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was Chanyeol who failed to comply to the simplest terms while Baekhyun was just being human. After all, becoming friends could not have had as many cons as Chanyeol thought. He started to think of the pros. Firstly, it gave him a reason, aside from his infatuation, to get closer to Baekhyun without being violently pushed away and cursed at. Secondly, if he was cautious enough, he could open up the doors to Baekhyun’s heart and learn about him, and then use those things to make him fall for Chanyeol, too. They could move on to what Chanyeol was most eager about if he could get Baekhyun to trust him, and he was most determined to make that happen. What could he lose at the end of this?

_Alright, Byun Baekhyun, he thought, looking up at the ceiling. I’m all yours._

 

* * *

 

_P.CY._   
_010-....-...._

_CY.: Let’s meet up tonight._   
_11:43 PM_

_No. It’s almost midnight. Are you insane?_   
_11:48 PM_

_CY.: You don’t wanna see me?_   
_11:48 PM_

_I never said that._   
_11:50 PM_

_CY.: Well, can I call you then? I need to talk to you._   
_11:51 PM_

_I guess..._   
_11:55 PM_

—

Baekhyun didn’t actually mean to indirectly say yes. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but it was always as though he had no brain cells whenever it came to Chanyeol, and he’d just stupidly allow himself to do whatever the drummer suggested (except for that one thing that sometimes involved a bed and no clothes). In no more than ten seconds, his phone was going to vibrate against his forehead, and he was going to have to listen to the other ramble on and on about things that Baekhyun didn’t want to know about.

When his phone began to tickle his skin, he picked it up, held it away from his face, and stared at the screen. _P.CY. is calling,_ it read, and in Baekhyun’s mind, a voice, Chanyeol’s voice, announced it in a taunting manner that made him want to pull his hair out just so he could endure something less painful. But he slid the moving phone icon over anyway and answered with a heartless, “Hey.”

 _“Fine, let’s be friends,”_ was the first thing the voice on the other end of the line said.

It confused Baekhyun at first, but their conversation from a couple days prior rushed back to him. “I wasn’t implying that I wanted to be friends with you. I was hoping it’d be more like advice for your future encounters.”

_“What ‘future encounters,’ baby? It’s you.”_

Baekhyun groaned. “Okay, I’m hanging—”

_“Wait! Wait wait wait! I’m sorry. You know I’m an idiot.”_

“Yeah, what’s new?”

The line was quiet for a few minutes. Neither of them counted how long they sat, listening to each other inhale and exhale in a staggering pattern. They began when they felt like it.

_“Are you thinking about it?”_

“I sure am.”

_“Anything I can do to help you make up your mind?”_

“If you can give me at least one good reason why I should even consider this, then I might be able to decide.” The sound of paper being uncrumpled and smoothed out against a hard surface filled Baekhyun’s ears, and he almost couldn’t believe it. “You wrote them down?”

Chanyeol’s rich laughter was the next thing he heard. _“Don’t make fun of me. This took forever.”_

“Gee, I wonder why.”

_“Because I tailored them to match you, beautiful. Now listen. Are you listening?”_

“Yes...”

 _“One, I have a lot of time. I can always be there when you need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on. Two, I’ll always take good care of you. If you’re hungry at three in the morning, I’ll bring you food.”_ There was a pause between two and three. Baekhyun wondered why, but then Chanyeol began again. _“Three, I’m kinda nutsy when it comes to you. I don’t sleep much anymore because I’m so busy thinking about you.”_

A fire burned in the depths of Baekhyun’s heart. It had been too long since he last felt these butterflies. He had no idea that Chanyeol possessed the ability to write out these thoughts, let alone have them. The way he spoke with such vulnerability coloring each individual letter of his words was enough to warm Baekhyun up to the idea of being friends with Chanyeol.

Before he could even think of something to say, Chanyeol whispered, _“I think I can feel you breathe again. Earlier, it hit me like a current.”_

“I only asked for one reason, and I want to ask for another thing. Quit with the ‘Hello beautiful’ stuff, okay? It makes me cringe. Oh, and this ends the second you try something on me.”

Chanyeol giggled. _“You’re crazy to think I’d ruin our little something.”_

“And you’re just crazy.”

They went back to silence. At this point, they didn’t need to say anything. It was a waiting game to see who’d give in first.

Sleep slipped from Baekhyun’s mind entirely, and he channeled all his energy into staying awake, just in case Chanyeol spoke again. He wanted to hear every word. Though it wasn’t that way initially, something changed, and all he wanted was for Chanyeol to repeat the three reasons why he should not only be friends with the senior, but also keep him in his life for a significant—and perhaps indefinite—amount of time.

“Chanyeol?” he murmured.

_“Yes?”_

“Are you going to hurt me?”

_“Is that really what you’re thinking about right now?”_

“Well, what are you thinking about?” Baekhyun heard Chanyeol snickering quietly and immediately regretted asking. “Wait! Don’t answer that!”

_“I’m thinking about...how you said my name. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say it. It sounds good coming from your lips.”_

“Oh...” He waited for Chanyeol to speak. He had his phone pressed up so tightly to his ear and the side of his face that his sweat was probably seeping through the screen as he concentrated on the sound of nothingness between them. “If that’s all, then we should go to sleep now.”

_“Is that an invite?”_

“Did you forget what I said?”

_“Calm down, Byun Baekhyun. We’re buildings away. I couldn’t do anything to you even if I wanted to.”_

“Hm, you’ve got that right.”

_“I have a small concert on Friday. Come and see me?”_

Chanyeol’s ability to change topics in a conversation was still shocking to Baekhyun. He could move between subject matters with the agility of an ice skater. “Why should I? I’m not big on social events.”

_“That’s not what it looked like when you upped and went to Wu’s slaughter party. I thought we were friends. Don’t friends support each other?”_

“Alright, fine. Where do I need to be?”

_“Open Hall, 8 p.m. Don’t be late. I can only hold your seat for you for so long.”_

“Okay, I’ll be there. Can I sleep now?”

_“Yeah. Of course. But can I ask for one last thing before you go?”_

“Sure.”

_“Say my name again.”_

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a friend ask that of another friend. That’s actually kind of creepy.”

_“Please?”_

Baekhyun took a deep breath. He wanted to say a lot more than Chanyeol’s name, but it wasn’t the right moment to speak his mind. Not yet. Chanyeol was still a little sketchy, and buried somewhere in the pit of Baekhyun’s stomach was the notion that nobody in the world could change as quickly as the drummer did. He could wait. “Chanyeol,” he whispered, clutching onto his heart as tightly as he could. “Good night.”

_“Sweet dreams, Baekhyun.”_

—

Getting out of bed was something Kyungsoo didn’t enjoy doing, even if he needed to, but it came down to peeing in his bed or in his bathroom somewhere around midnight. With a gruff grunt, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and made for the door. His shoulder hit the door frame, making him wince, yet he pulled through and stumbled into the hallway. He had to feel his way to the bathroom, which seemed further away than he remembered, but Baekhyun’s giggle haunted his actions and he came to a daring halt in front of his roommate’s door.

 _Why is he still up?_ Kyungsoo thought. He pressed himself up against the door and listened to see if Baekhyun’d make another sound.

_“Chanyeol?”_

Kyungsoo gasped, wondering since when were the two of them on such good terms that Baekhyun was calling out Chanyeol’s name in the middle of the night. He hoped with all his heart that he didn’t just catch his roommate masturbating to his—

_“Are you going to hurt me?”_

The only thing keeping Kyungsoo from squealing was...well, nothing, but he slapped his hands over his mouth. Chanyeol was in there with Baekhyun! There was no other explanation. They were sleeping together, or doing some of that disgusting, kinky shit, and Kyungsoo’s timing was just too perfect.

_“Well, what are you thinking about?”_

Okay, so they weren’t in the room with each other. Kyungsoo pieced the puzzle together and gathered that they were on the phone. How terrible. He lost focus of everything else Baekhyun was saying and slid to the ground. He had forgotten why he was awake. All he could think about was Baekhyun and Chanyeol becoming closer, in both friendship and skinship.

How could he stand idly by and watch the life be sucked out of this poor freshman? Baekhyun didn’t know better, and was apparently easily swayed, so anything Kyungsoo said to warn him was probably washed out by now, seeing as how he was already at the stage of giggling comfortably around Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo could not contain both his concern and anger. All his efforts were wasted at the snap of Chanyeol’s fingers. He had thought his warnings would’ve kept Baekhyun out of this web for good, but he was in too deep now. Chanyeol’s spell had been cast, and it was spreading to every last limb in Baekhyun’s body. Kyungsoo only knew because he had sighed that sigh and laughed that laugh before.

“Poor Baekhyun,” he said softly. He returned to his bedroom and wrapped himself up in the comfort of his blankets. In no time, he slid into a slumber, ignoring the fact that he still needed to use the bathroom.


	4. “Let Me Show You To Your Seat”

After taking a good long look in the mirror for the last time that evening, Baekhyun realized he didn’t look like himself anymore. Over the course of the past winter, he had paled, and his bones had become more noticeably defined around his cheeks and collar as a result of what he liked to call “unhealthy dieting,” which mainly consisted of skipping meals for days in a row on account of his depression. Back then, he was proud of his routine. He’d tell himself every morning that he had done well, and should keep up his good work until he was presentable. Now, he couldn’t stand the reflection staring back at him. How could anyone else? How could the charming, handsome, desirable Chanyeol?

And as his thoughts placed themselves on the senior, Baekhyun also reminded himself of the reason why he became so damaged in the first place. Just because everything looked peachy-keen in the moment didn’t mean it’d be that way forever. He couldn’t keep trusting the people he _wanted_ to trust. The world no longer worked that way. Trust needed to be earned, and it’d take a lot more than a couple weeks and one phone call to know who’d save him and who’d wreck him. It required putting himself in a position of danger to unveil something that serious.

 _Just be careful,_ he told himself as he took his bottle of lotion in one hand. He squeezed a quarter-sized drop in his palm, put the bottle on his chair, and massaged the substance into his skin.

“No more hurt, Baekhyun,” he said out loud, when hearing it in his head was no longer convincing enough. “No more scars for you. Be strong.”

Then, a knock. Though light, it startled him from his momentary daze, causing him to fall back and knock over the lotion onto his foot. He winced and nearly screamed a string of curse words, but he held it in, quickly shaking off the throbbing before limping to the door. He swung it open to reveal a plain-faced Kyungsoo standing in front of him, his plump lips pursed.

“Can I come in?” he asked Baekhyun, his head tilted off to the side.

“Yeah, of course.” Baekhyun moved over to clear the path for his roommate. The other male took a seat on his chair and looked around the room, his eyes wide open as he scanned the plain features of the living space. Baekhyun watched him make silent, yet unsubtle criticisms, marking them down in his memory as if it was a notepad. He wondered if he’d be getting a memo some time soon on what needed to be changed.

Closing the door, Baekhyun ambled to his own bed and plopped down with his legs crossed to hide the red spot on which his lotion had attacked his foot. He chuckled nervously after a couple minutes of more unsettling stillness, mostly on his part. “Is there something you need, Kyungsoo? I feel like we don’t really talk unless I need something from you, or you from me. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“I was actually just wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat. It’s getting late and I haven’t had the time to go grocery shopping yet, so we are stuck with fast food, again.”

Unsure for himself, Baekhyun glanced at the time on his watch. He was hoping that they could stop for a quick snack, for he was quite hungry, too, but there were only ten minutes left till eight—and Baekhyun hated being late almost as much as breaking a promise. He couldn’t cross either of those lines, even if he wanted to. “I’m so sorry, Kyungsoo. I have somewhere I need to be though. I-I can’t go for dinner with you.”

“Oh, is that so? Where are you going?”

“Just a little event on campus. Chanyeol’s band, they’re performing in the Open Hall tonight and he asked me to go...for support.”

Kyungsoo nodded nonchalantly. He didn’t seem too shocked to hear Baekhyun’s plans, as though he already knew beforehand. “I didn’t know you guys are so close. I’m glad to hear you’re making friends, though. That’ll come in handy around here.”

“Right,” Baekhyun mumbled, suddenly remembering that he and Chanyeol _were_ friends. That fact always escaped his mind on bad days (which were everyday since they had labeled their relationship). “Um, you know, I owe it all to you. I thought a lot about what you said to me that night, about not judging someone before getting to know them. I’ve noticed it is perhaps the best way to distance yourself from others, and isn’t it kinda foolish to do that to yourself after entering a whole new world of strangers?”

“I said that? Wow, I must’ve been having a good day,” Kyungsoo interjected without answering Baekhyun’s question. It sounded rather rhetorical to him, anyway.

“Yes. You probably were. Anyhow, I think coming here to Riverside should be a new start, right? Meaning I should be willing to make new friends.”

“Uh, of course, but...you should also think of it this way: It is not good to open your heart to everyone you meet here. You can play on the field, but you won’t know which way your opponent is going to move.”

“Why are you so good at that? Your examples and comparisons are always on point.” Baekhyun let out a deep breath that he had been holding in. His next brief statements sounded like nothing but a whisper. “It’s a scary world. You never know who is going to cause you pain, and who is going to take it all away.”

Kyungsoo bowed his head, avoiding eye contact with the freshman. He knew the exact feeling of fear that Baekhyun was describing like the back of his hand, and whenever he thought about it, his entire body would become numb. He wanted to offer some words of wisdom based on his pitiful experience, but he wasn’t sure it would’ve been appropriate for the occasion. After all, the two of them were only roommates, and all he had said to Baekhyun about Chanyeol so far went ignored. Anything he planned on mentioning now would probably get the same treatment.

He supposed he’d just give a little nudge to move their night along. That seat Chanyeol was saving for Baekhyun wouldn’t last long. “Should I escort you to the Open Hall then? Make the world seem like a less scary place? If we leave now, you’ll make it in time.”

A grin took place on the younger’s face. “Yes please.”

—

The walk to the Open Hall was a harsh one, especially in the arms of late winter. Being wrapped in a jacket was not enough to stay warm for the entire way. Baekhyun had unconsciously scooted closer to Kyungsoo in an attempt to acquire some of his body heat, but when their hands grazed, Baekhyun jumped and returned the space between them. The silence, however, was unchanging.

It wasn’t long before they came to their destination, though by then, neither of them wanted to split ways. Kyungsoo worried Baekhyun wouldn’t be able to handle what was coming for him, and Baekhyun plainly didn’t want to endure an event having to do with Chanyeol by himself. He asked—practically begged—for Kyungsoo to stay with him for at least a half hour, but he was rejected kindly with nothing but excuses.

“Maybe next time, alright? I’ve got some homework to do and I’ll probably have to squeeze in some grocery shopping at the market later.”

Mildly upset, Baekhyun hung his head low. “Ah, I see. It’s okay, then. This’ll probably be the last time I come to one of these things.”

“It won’t be. I promise you that much.” Kyungsoo motioned toward the door. “Go on. You wouldn’t want to be late now, would you?”

“No, I guess not,” Baekhyun muttered, but he still didn’t budge. “Thanks for walking me here.”

“Any time. And I mean that, Baekhyun. If you don’t feel safe walking around here at night, I’m always here.”

Baekhyun smirked at his roommate. “I’ll be bothering you a lot then. I hope you don’t go back on your words, even when I’m too annoying for you to handle.” He waved a small wave to Kyungsoo as the elder departed. After seeing that he had safely turned the corner, Baekhyun pivoted on his heel and pushed through the doors.

His expectations were set extremely low for the concert. He didn’t think so many people would show up, and he was under the impression that punctuality wasn’t going to pose a problem. He hated that he had never been more wrong. When Chanyeol said that he could only hold Baekhyun’s seat for so long, Baekhyun was sure he was exaggerating. For an even longer moment, he couldn’t believe one person could think so highly of himself, but now he saw the crazed girls crowding around every centimeter of the venue in packs of no less than six. They fanned themselves and squealed and hopped up and down like there was no tomorrow. All this for a concert of rubbish that most of them probably couldn’t even understand.

Hoping that he had drawn no attention yet, he slipped to the back of the room and stood in the only isolated corner he found. It was still hard to grasp that he was really attending a rock concert at the request of somebody he could barely tolerate. Would that person be able to spot him in the vast crowd, amongst so many frantic people?

It only occurred to Baekhyun after he asked himself that question that he’d stick out like a sore thumb, seeing as how he was the only other male in the venue, aside from the band. He had no choice but to search for the familiar and annoying face that he once sprinted from. As uneasy as it was to be around Chanyeol, Baekhyun preferred it to standing beside thirsty strangers who didn’t care that their conversations could be heard from miles away.

A petite girl with shiny brown locks and hideously round glasses, leaning against the pillar next to Baekhyun’s corner, made such a commotion that he was compelled to peel himself away from his temporarily comfortable slot just to listen. He wouldn’t have ever admitted it to a living soul, but the key word that caught his attention was Chanyeol’s name.

 _“He is so fucking good in bed!”_ she cried in what she probably thought was a whisper, but hell, if Chanyeol was within ten miles, he would’ve known she was talking about him.

Another girl squealed and clapped like a walrus. Literally. _“You are so lucky, Sera!”_

Somewhere in that little horde, someone asked, _“But what did he find attractive about you? You look like a mess all the time and those glasses are a serious turn-off!”_

_“Maybe he doesn’t care about the way a person looks!”_

Baekhyun scoffed and muttered under his breath, “That is definitely bullshit.”

 _“I’ll say,”_ a gruff voice said from behind him, and before he could turn around to greet Chanyeol, he was lifted into the air, his arms tied to the sides of his body to prevent him from moving.

“Let go of me!” Baekhyun hissed as he felt Chanyeol’s lips on his neck.

“The more you struggle, the tighter I’ll squeeze. Now, just say a proper hello, and you can be a free little puppy.”

Clenching his jaw in utter defeat, Baekhyun leaned his head back and spoke through the wall that his teeth created. “Hello, Chanyeol. It’s good to see you.”

“Cool.” Chanyeol did as he promised and released Baekhyun. He landed on his feet with the cutest little grunt, tickling a hoarse cackle out of Chanyeol. “Why didn’t you call me when you arrived?”

“I was a bit distracted by the fangirls,” Baekhyun responded honestly. “If you knew I arrived, why’d it take you so long to come up to me?”

“I was also distracted by my many delicious fangirls. I’m trying to choose which one I should snag next.” Baekhyun didn’t realize his attitude suddenly shifted, but Chanyeol did, just as he wanted it to, and he laughed at the way the smaller male tensed. He took advantage of this abrupt weakness and slung an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders. “Do I detect jealousy, Byun Baekhyun?”

“Just as long as I detect delusion,” Baekhyun said, shrugging off the heaviness around him.

Chanyeol snickered softly. “Okay. Let me show you to your seat.” He clasped Baekhyun’s wrist and dragged him along, keeping him a couple steps behind. They entered a side door that took them backstage where Chanyeol’s entire band was sitting around, some playing with their instruments and the remainder watching television with their feet propped up high. The door shut behind them, and it was like a military signal where everyone moved immediately and in sync without being told. The band members lined up in front of Chanyeol and waited for him to snap his fingers. Baekhyun presumed that was the “at ease” cue.

“Guys, Baekhyun. Baekhyun, my brothers. From left to right: Minseok, Yixing, who we also call Lay, Sehun, and Jongin.”

Baekhyun bowed. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you guys.”

The first to move in and shake his hand was Minseok. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

 _Finally?_ Baekhyun barely had time to ponder over it before Yixing “Lay” took his other hand and graced it with a peck. “Such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

There it was again, that word. Had Chanyeol been spilling the beans about him to the others, possibly mischaracterizing him just so he’d seem more interesting and acceptable to his friends? If so, then Baekhyun felt bad for Chanyeol. Whatever image he had of Baekhyun in his mind was going to be torn down with the right amount of time.

Sehun cleared his throat in a fake and flirty playboy manner, pushing both Minseok and Yixing out of the way just so he could get a better view of the freshman. His eyes rested on Baekhyun’s face first, traveled down his entire body in no particular rush, and then raced back up to the starting point, where they made awkward eye contact. “Damn, Park. I think you’ll have to share this.”

Chanyeol was quick to come to the rescue and defend Baekhyun, forgetting that they were _friends._ “Why don’t you go fall off the face of the earth first? Nobody touches him.” As soon as he remembered that he technically wasn’t allowed to touch Baekhyun, either, he added in a jeering tone, “He’s not up for grabs. That’s what I learned from being his friend.”

So far, it seemed that only Sehun had the same mentality as Chanyeol, for he was also the only one who unrattled Baekhyun and made his skin crawl. He shuddered and dipped his head to conceal his expression. “It’s nice to meet you,” he repeated, triggering a chain of laughing and murmuring between the three bandmates, excluding Chanyeol. The humiliation lifted in Baekhyun like foam in a mug of coffee, and his face turned about as red as a ripe strawberry. Within the next few minutes, it grew unbearably warm in the stuffy backstage room, too; that was, until the one voice that Baekhyun had been anticipating to hear broke out.

“Leave the kid alone and set up your shit,” it said, annoyance tinging the very depths of his syllables, and from memory, Baekhyun knew this was the man that Kyungsoo cared about so much, to the point where the absence of his voice became his only yearning. Jongin was so cold, though; he chilled the expanse with one statement, and despite not being the eldest or the “leader,” the rest listened and dispersed to find their instruments. All except Chanyeol, of course.

Baekhyun couldn’t help but stare now that his embarrassment dissipated and he was his normal pale color, again. His gaze was fixated on Jongin, albeit not a specific or absolute part of him. He just wanted to see up close this whole man that was capable of breaking apart a troupe of maniacs, this whole man that Kyungsoo had both praised and demolished at the same time.

Jongin’s stature was wide, and he was almost as tall as Chanyeol, with sun-kissed skin—a beautiful tone, if Baekhyun could add—and a sharp, unforgettable jawline. His hair, a mixture between brown and blond, was pushed back to one side, just like Chanyeol’s, and Baekhyun unexpectedly found himself counting their similarities and dwelling on the fact that they were stepbrothers.

He only snapped out of it in time to hear Chanyeol mumble a comment toward Jongin, who was clearly bothered by it even though he was trying to act as if he didn’t care. Chanyeol looked down at Baekhyun after the band occupied themselves. “Sorry about him. He’s always moody at concerts.”

“Why? Doesn’t that affect your set?” Baekhyun asked, unaware of how interested and concerned he really sounded.

“Nah, I think it benefits us a lot more than he wants it to. And he just gets upset because he isn’t as lucky as me.”

“That’s a bit rude.”

“I’m just being honest. He hasn’t been able to get his friend to come out and watch him on stage for two years, and in a little over two weeks, I’ve already got you here cheering me on.”

Baekhyun still didn’t understand. Was it normal for two brothers to act so distant from each other, even if jealousy caused some sort of a barrier?

“Don’t give it too much thought, Byun Baekhyun. Can I show you to your seat now?” Chanyeol extended a hand, his palm supinated. Baekhyun gradually fit his hand into the larger male’s and allowed himself to be taken away, back into the rowdy audience.

He nervously waited for Chanyeol to point him to his seat, and he had every reason to be so cautious. Being there, buried somewhere in the back, was bad enough already, but sitting up front and center was a different story. Baekhyun clung onto Chanyeol’s arm and shook his head after being directed to the seat of death. “I can’t sit there,” he rasped, inching his way behind the taller male.

“Why not? I went through a lot of work to get you that place.”

“I’d be willing to give it up and just watch from behind the curtains. I-I can’t do this chair. It’s too close.”

Chanyeol laughed and pushed Baekhyun into the seat. He knelt down, balancing his chin on the tip of his fingers to get a good glimpse of his new muse. “I want you here, okay? You’ll be fine, I promise. Just keep an eye on me the entire time and you won’t even notice that there are others here.”

“But—”

“Hush, Byun Baekhyun. I’ll see you in a couple.” Chanyeol hopped up on his feet and scrambled off into the back room, again, leaving Baekhyun to deal with the howls of excitement the girls around him kept emitting, which he found to be quite fitting as each girl reminded him of a hungry wolf, waiting desperately for its prey to come out.

When the lights dimmed, his fingers interlaced by themselves. He sighed, straightening his back like it was an instinct and soaked up the loud guitar riff that echoed throughout the room. Following it was a high-pitched cry, and then the rest of the squeaky girls screamed in a wave that started from his right ear and ended in his left. Right from the get-go, he was already so annoyed, and he didn’t want to stay a second longer—but a promise to Baekhyun was far too sacred to break, even if it drove him insane.

After one excruciatingly long hour, Baekhyun forgot to pay attention to the music and everything else that wasn’t Chanyeol, for he was too focused on the drummer’s red passion. He could only see the swift and powerful movements of Chanyeol’s slender arms as he pounded on his drums with so much force that Baekhyun feared they’d break. From one song to the next, he didn’t look like he tired out from the activity, which the freshman found to be admirable.

As for Chanyeol, whenever his eyes weren’t clenched shut and he wasn’t submerged under the comfort of his music, he was keenly gaping at Baekhyun down in the mob. Clearly, hard rock wasn’t his area of interest, but Chanyeol appreciated that he nodded along anyway and clapped his hands together in a small, rhythmic pattern just to fit in despite not really fitting in at all. It gave Chanyeol the energy he needed to keep the event alive.

The concert reached its end at last, the instruments fading into a silent mess that everyone but Baekhyun was objecting to. Around him, every person shouted “Encore!” at the top of their lungs, and Baekhyun kept wondering, _Haven’t you guys had enough?_ because he certainly had more than he could take. Feedback from the main microphone made his teeth hurt, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at the stage until Chanyeol’s husky voice shouted, “Do you guys want more?!”

The ocean of women answered in unison. “Yes!”

And then it was applause that filled the next few moments while the entire band either let go of their instruments or stepped away from them to shush the crowd. For the first time that evening, a calm had frozen over everyone, and Baekhyun didn’t even have time to wonder why before he heard his name in a sentence it really didn’t need to be in. “Can we have a Mister Byun Baekhyun come up on stage please?” The freshman didn’t budge. “Jongin, Sehun, bring him up!”

So, they did. The two equally tall members jumped off the stage, approaching his seat. They each took one of his arms and raised him up in the air like he was the lightest thing either of them could’ve been carrying. Baekhyun made no effort in squirming or screaming or getting away. He was more concerned with why Yixing was pulling a chair out into the middle of the stage, right in front of the drums and into the center of the platform. Jongin and Sehun forced him into the chair, and just as Chanyeol began to talk into the microphone again, Jongin leaned down near Baekhyun’s ear and whispered, “Don’t move.”

He realized how easy it was to comply to the command, especially since there wasn’t a single soul in the building that wasn’t observing his actions. The difficult part was not being able to decide whether the miens of the girls were displaying envy or hate, or both. Many of them looked like they were going to erupt, but Chanyeol had returned to his post, as well as the others, and even Baekhyun knew what this meant.

Baekhyun did everything he could to drown out the racket, everything but cover his ears. He was cautious not to hurt the band’s feelings, not that they appeared to have any. He concluded it was more of a safety measure for himself anyhow, because he’d get a good beating if he dared to show the slightest signs of dislike.

The song lasted an extra four minutes, and at this point, Baekhyun hadn’t the slightest idea if it was a good or bad thing. It was four minutes over what he initially planned to stay for, but evaluating it for a second time, he was aware that the concert could’ve also lasted for several more hours. He suddenly wanted to thank those few minutes.

Before he could make up his mind about this dilemma of time, Jongin was pulling him off of the chair and backstage, again. He couldn’t take a hold of anything, like why he was removed in such a rush (he wasn’t complaining) or why it was Jongin who had taken a grip of him instead of Chanyeol.

As though he had seen what Baekhyun was thinking, Jongin parted open the curtains and explained, “I had to get you away from those insane bitches. They were gonna rip you to shreds.”

Baekhyun peeked at what Jongin was trying to show him. “What’s going on? I thought it all ended.”

“This is the part where my brother stays for an extra thirty minutes to sign their tits and other places you are probably too innocent to know about.”

“Oh. _Oh. Ew._ ”

“So, you _do_ know about that stuff?”

“Well, I’m not exactly stupid. Of course I know about women and their...okay, don’t make me say it.”

Jongin laughed softly and threw a scarf at Baekhyun. “Put that on, little one. It’s cold outside.”

“What do you—”

“This is gonna take a while, so you can either wait for him or let me walk you home. Whatever suits you.”

Baekhyun wasn’t going to give Jongin the option to say it again or take back his offer. He wrapped the long cloth around his neck, tied it in a perfect bow, and trailed after Jongin as he kicked open the side door. He didn’t think twice about leaving Chanyeol behind.


	5. “I See It In You”

Snow crunched under Baekhyun’s quick, short strides and Jongin’s massive paces. It was the only sound either of them could hear for as long as they were walking. Campus really _was_ dead, and the clock tower hadn’t even struck eleven yet. It was a Friday night. Weren’t there supposed to be parties everywhere, or did the concert snag the only reason those parties existed? Baekhyun didn’t doubt that this was the case.

He eventually found himself wandering around dangerous perimeters of curiosity and observation that included two exceptional brothers whose company he had yet to become accustomed to. The differences between Chanyeol and Jongin, both in their physical appearances and personalities, were so incredibly explicit that Baekhyun could literally see the diagram separating them like it was on white paper. However, these weren’t the things that intrigued Baekhyun. The implicit dissimilarities between them kept him curious, and then everything that linked them together, all the things that made them the same person, was what urged Baekhyun to want to stay entangled in this Chanyeol web.

Jongin was gentler in every way when it came to handling Baekhyun. Their little stroll home was a short, nearly silent one, but during those four minutes in which they walked side by side, each with no less than a hundred questions swimming in their heads, Jongin constantly turned to check on Baekhyun and ask if he was okay or not, to which the latter only nodded. He had no idea how to answer to the tone of concern. For the most part though, Jongin kept to himself, and that was something Baekhyun respected.

It wasn’t until Baekhyun grew painfully agog that he reached over to Jongin, tapped his shoulder, and stopped them a couple steps away from his building.

“What is it? Do you need my jacket?” Jongin questioned firmly, his eyes widening with apparent worry, and Baekhyun couldn’t get past this image for a few seconds. This man that Baekhyun had dubbed cold-hearted was suddenly showing a side of him that not many people knew he had. Why was he okay with it being seen by a total stranger like Baekhyun? What had made Baekhyun an exception?

“Uh, I-I have a question. That’s all.”

“Ah...okay. I may have an answer.”

Baekhyun turned to face Jongin. “Do you dislike me? My feelings won’t get hurt if you just tell me the truth, but I don’t get why you wouldn’t even say hi to me earlier and then you offered to take me home.”

A rather attractive smirk washed onto Jongin’s face. He lifted both his hands, and Baekhyun flinched at the gesture, thinking he was going to get struck for his loose lips, but all that happened was the fixing of his scarf, Jongin’s fingers curling into the material as he retied it a couple times. “I don’t know how to act around strangers, but I slowly saw that you’re the same as me. I just wanted to help out.”

“Are you usually this comfortable putting your hands on somebody you don’t know?” The words slipped from Baekhyun’s lips too soon, and he couldn’t control it before Jongin furrowed his brows and leaned over the smaller male’s figure. Baekhyun covered his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, the sound of his voice muffled behind the blockade made from his hands.

Jongin didn’t lose the tenderness in his gaze. “I can tell that you have me and my brother confused. In the back of your brain, you think we want the same things from you.” He flicked Baekhyun’s forehead without so much as a warning. “True, we’re both rash and brainless about 80% of the time, but I’m not like him. Not when it comes to this.”

“And what exactly is ‘this,’ huh?” Baekhyun was still rubbing his forehead. It was hard for Jongin not to laugh at his helpless expression either.

“I’m just trying to be your friend, alright? I asked to walk you home because campus security went off duty about 15 minutes ago.”

It was that part of Jongin’s statement that made Baekhyun think about what Kyungsoo had told him before he entered the concert, about calling Kyungsoo if he needed anything. “Well, I’m sorry for being a bother, then. You didn’t have to go out of your way to send me home. My roommate would’ve picked me up.”

“Roommate?” Jongin whispered.

Baekhyun was too occupied with blabbering about Kyungsoo to notice the lack of legitimate inquisitiveness in Jongin’s response. He went on and on, describing what Kyungsoo looked like, what he walked and talked like, and even the scent of cologne that he left behind wherever he went, letting it slip his mind that he already had prior knowledge of this mysterious Kyungsoo-Jongin relationship. He wasn’t doing anything except probably prompting a conflict. He caught onto his mistake about a hundred words later and shut his mouth.

“You know Kyungsoo, right?” Baekhyun stared in anticipation at the elder, internally beating himself for having so many questions and wanting so many answers. As long as he could get his assumptions confirmed, then he’d be at ease.

Jongin looked up at the sky. It was clearer than usual, having only a few stars to dot the navy canvas with a sparkling silver, and he thought it was ironic how the sky was mirroring his own emptiness. “Yeah, I do.”

“How?” When Jongin shot him a glare, he drew back. “Sorry...”

“Don’t be. Maybe I’ll tell you the next time we meet. You mind if I walk you to the door?”

Baekhyun shook his head and moved forward. He was startled to feel Jongin’s hand trace his back and push him up the stairs, but he kept going under the unnecessary supervision until they stopped at his door. That was as far as they got, making it seem like they had hit a wall of some sort as the brisk wind tried pushing them through. Jongin noticed before the notion even crossed Baekhyun’s mind.

“Did you forget your key?” the elder asked.

Too embarrassed to speak, Baekhyun just bobbed his head in confirmation and raised his right hand to knock on the door—before it flew open.

Standing stiffly in the pathway was Kyungsoo, his eyes dashing between the two people he had least expected to see together. He held a trash bag in one hand and two large pieces of cardboard in the other, so he took up most of the entrance. Baekhyun didn’t dare to pass him.

“What are you two doing here?”

“I kinda live here,” Baekhyun croaked, but he soon registered that the question wasn’t directed at him so much as it was at Jongin. He saw Kyungsoo stepping to the side to let him through, and he took that to be his cue to scram. “I think I’ll go shower.” He was gone quicker than Kyungsoo and Jongin could breathe.

Jongin pointed. “Is he always that—”

“Innocent and lovable? Unfortunately so.” Kyungsoo giggled shyly, adjusting to the space and awkwardness between them that he hadn’t felt in so long, not that he missed anything having to do with the man standing in front of him; old habits just happen to die hard.

Jongin, who had been too preoccupied with the way the freshman was walking off, failed to take notice of the quite obvious judgement radiating off of Kyungsoo. Only when he heard the ruckus of cardboard meeting concrete did he tear himself away from the empty hallway and pay some attention to the small male making a pathetic attempt at bending down and picking up the item he dropped even though neither of his hands were free.

“Here, let me,” Jongin said quickly, getting down to his knees to fetch the condensed box. When he stood back up, he relieved Kyungsoo of the things in his hands as well. “I’ll...take these, okay?”

“You don’t have to.”

Jongin ambled away from Kyungsoo while under the impression that he would follow. He just didn’t want to start another pointless argument while he had Kyungsoo there. However, he only got as far as the stairwell before noticing that missing presence. There were no footsteps trailing behind him like he expected there to be. Jongin looked back. “Aren’t you coming?”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, taking out the garbage, I thought.”

Kyungsoo gave him an “Oh really?” look, indicating that he already knew Jongin came there for a lot more than tossing out trash, and he glued himself to the side of the building to make it even clearer that he wouldn’t move a muscle until he knew the full story.

They battled out their stillness to see who was tougher, who could wait longer, and eventually, as usual, Jongin let Kyungsoo win. “Fine, fine,” he sighed, moving toward the shorter male in rushed strides. He dropped everything at his sides and pressed himself up beside Kyungsoo. “What do you want me to say now?”

Changing his position, Kyungsoo faced himself away from Jongin as he spoke. He didn’t want to look into those eyes and crumble. “You shouldn’t be here. You promised.”

“I promised to give you time. Isn’t two years long enough, or do you want to keep me boxed up like this forever?”

“You have been free to move on for two years.”

“If I wanted to, I would’ve,” Jongin said, placing a hand on Kyungsoo’s back. He drummed his fingertips along his spine and pulled Kyungsoo into his chest. “But I will wait for you for the rest of my life if I have to. You’re worth it.” Next, his lips grazed Kyungsoo’s nape and Jongin inhaled one big breath of him, as if he’d never get to again.

The moment was far too overwhelming for one little Kyungsoo to handle without breaking into a thousand shards of resentment. He basked in the pleasure of having the only man he ever loved so close to him for three exact seconds, but he had to put the space back between them before his entire body combusted. “Don’t do that, Jongin,” he rasped.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel powerless. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Jongin took two steps back. “What else am I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch? He has finally found somebody to go after! Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’ve been avoiding everyone, so don’t take it too personally.”

“That’s bullshit. I know you meet up with Chanyeol.”

“ _Met._ And that was for his own benefit, so...it doesn’t really count for anything.”

They stood in their own bubbles of silence afterwards, with Kyungsoo still facing the opposite direction and Jongin staring longingly at the former’s perfect figure. Jongin was bothered. He couldn’t stand being so close yet so far from the one man who had the frightening ability to make Jongin’s heart beat faster and slower simultaneously. Why was it that their bodies could be together, but their hearts couldn’t?

All Jongin wanted to do was grab Kyungsoo by his shoulders, hold him in place tightly, and kiss his plush lips until they became swollen. He wanted to feel that lost connection rebuilding itself, the warmth of Kyungsoo’s touch tracing his body, wrapping around his neck. It couldn’t hurt to give it a shot, right? So he did. Allowing himself no time to rethink his decision, he made Kyungsoo face him and took his lips. It was right, and spontaneous, and wonderful. The way Kyungsoo was melting in his arms and surrendering at last, it gave Jongin an odd sense of dominance, but only because he had no idea what was going on in the other’s mind.

As much as Kyungsoo loved being reminded that every bit of him belonged to Jongin, he was disgusted by everything else this kiss stood for. He didn’t have the same mindset as Jongin, where something so tender and intimate could cure all that was wrong in the past. This wouldn’t help him move forward, like what he knew Jongin was hoping for.

When he had absorbed enough bittersweetness to last him the next couple of years, he gently pushed Jongin away and kept him at an arm’s length. The only way to protect him from all the viciousness in Kyungsoo’s life was to keep him as far away as humanly possible—even if it meant he’d be unhappy for the rest of his life, watching as Jongin found love again. It was the price he deserved to pay for being who he was.

“Go, Jongin. I don’t want you around here.” At least he wasn’t being completely dishonest. The only thing he was cheating Jongin of was the reason why he didn’t want him to be near.

Dumbfounded, Jongin couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. “Wh-what about the trash?” he stammered.

“Leave it if you want, take it if you please. Just go.” Kyungsoo kicked the front door open, showing himself into his dorm swiftly. Before shutting the door, he called back to Jongin, who had already collected the mess at his feet. “Hey, do me one last favor?”

Jongin looked up. There was hope in his eyes, and Kyungsoo hated that. “Sure, as if all the others aren’t still in tact.”

Kyungsoo felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest, and it took everything in him to not slam the door. “Just...keep a close eye on Baekhyun. He’s a very good kid, and I don’t trust that your brother won’t take advantage of that.”

As Kyungsoo proceeded to gently closing the door, Jongin replied in a whisper with something that sunk his heart, and he knew it would’ve done the same to Kyungsoo if he heard it. “Neither do I.”

They parted ways like the two strangers they wished to be.

 

* * *

 

Baekhyun was a rather inactive first-year student, compared to some of the freshmen Baekhyun had class with. He always eavesdropped on their conversations about how much their workload was, but Baekhyun had yet to feel that overwhelmed by his courses. It was probably going to sock him in the face all in one go when time came, but Baekhyun supposed he could afford to wait before more lunacy invaded him. That was the plan, anyway, but Baekhyun was learning to despise his freedom now that he lacked at least one task to keep him occupied. He had way too much  open space in his day, because for the first time ever, he wasn’t particularly hungry, nor did he want to go home.

Since the night he left Kyungsoo alone with Jongin, Baekhyun r ealized his roommate had been extremely moody, and it even seemed like he was angry with Baekhyun, so he thought it’d be best to stay away if and when being at home was unnecessary just to give Kyungsoo some time to himself. That may have left him no place to go, but Baekhyun couldn’t bear the thought of ruining his one real friendship here at Riverside—it wasn’t worth it.

Baekhyun patiently waited for the professor to release the students, and for each individual to make their way through the door before he exited as well. Right outside the room he had class in was a staircase that led straight outside to the walkway that wound into the academy’s garden, and he decided that’d be his best and only option for the next three hours. It couldn’t be that bad, despite the fact that it was snowing outside. He was sure there’d be a shelter somewhere for him to sit and hide in.

Being in no rush to get up the steps, Baekhyun took them one at a time while he dug in his back pockets for his phone. The screen was full of notifications, all missed calls and texts from a devil named Park Chanyeol, who Baekhyun was holding a slight grudge against for having given him the silent treatment since the concert. Baekhyun wasn’t counting on receiving anything, though, for he knew better. Still, he believed at one point that Chanyeol would have the courtesy to apologize for asking him to come out but letting someone else take him home.

Now, all those little messages didn’t matter anymore. Baekhyun didn’t even feel like opening them, and after contemplating beneath the dim light, he left them as they were. He had no idea that he was going to face much worse than a text, until he took the final step and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by the person he was supposed to be evading.

“Hi Byun Baekhyun,” he announced clearly. His voice echoed throughout the hall.

“What are you doing here? How’d you know...never mind. Why are you here?”

“If you don’t already have lunch plans, I’d love to go on a picnic with you.”

Baekhyun stood on his toes and looked at the snowfall through the windows. “In this kind of weather?”

“Of course not, silly,” Chanyeol scoffed. “You think I’d let you sit out in the cold under _my_ watch?”

 _Of course not,_ Baekhyun thought, copying Chanyeol’s words. He reckoned that obsessiveness and protectiveness came as a package deal. “Okay, where are you planning on taking me for this ‘picnic,’ then?”

Adding onto his already shady and mysterious personality, Chanyeol said no more and took Baekhyun by the wrist, out into the crazy winter. They walked on the sidewalk that led back to the bowl, and from there, it was an easy task getting back to the dorms.

Somewhere along the way, Baekhyun finally noticed they were on his side of the dorms, also known as “The Odd Side”. He watched the numbers increase slowly as their stroll progressed, and soon they passed by seven, nine, and stopped at eleven. Baekhyun didn’t say anything while Chanyeol led him around the back of the building to what was in all likelihood his dorm. He fished out the keys from his pocket swiftly and unlocked his door without breaking his hold on the freshman. Baekhyun was unsure if he should be impressed or concerned.

“Welcome to the shabby place I call home,” Chanyeol bluntly stated, tossing his keys onto a side table that was already adorned with a lamp and picture frame.

Baekhyun took the first few seconds to evaluate his surroundings. All dorms were of the same model, but he never pegged Chanyeol or Jongin as men with tastes for interior design. Not even his own home looked this good, but in his defense, Kyungsoo was his roommate, and Baekhyun had to admit that the guy was quite bland.

“This doesn’t look bad at all,” Baekhyun said without thinking. He was still in awe.

“If you believe so, you’ll cry when you see my room back home.”

“Is that so?” Baekhyun was already beginning to wonder what kind of a family the step-brothers came from. They must’ve been upper class, judging by all the fancy decorations and the way Chanyeol talked down on these rooms that were sadly bigger than the town Baekhyun came from.

“Come on,” Chanyeol cut in, tugging at his arm with minimal force so as not to rip it off. “Let’s go have our picnic.”

Baekhyun was about to ask where when they turned into the left half of the hallway and ambled through a door that looked like it was left wide open for them. Clearly, they were in Chanyeol’s bedroom, and Baekhyun felt compelled to make a run for it albeit his heart wanted to stick around a little longer to see what was in store for him. They came to a halt not nearly five steps in.

The room was pitch black. Baekhyun couldn’t see what it looked like or what the color scheme was, or even Chanyeol’s face. He wondered how Chanyeol kept out all that light.

“Can you eat in the dark?” he suddenly asked as he guided Baekhyun into a sitting position on soft surface.

“I...I’ve never tried before so I can’t say. Why are the lights off again?”

Chanyeol chuckled, settling down beside him. “Oh, no special reason.”

“Why do I doubt that?”

“Because you’re right.” He pulled Baekhyun closer to him. “This clearly isn’t a picnic because I don’t have food, but this means more to me than any silly lunch.”

“Okay...” Baekhyun couldn’t understand what Chanyeol was babbling on and on about, but he was already there; he figured he’d make an effort. He waited for Chanyeol to say something, anything, to lessen the tension that so tirelessly insisted on sticking around.

“I want to get to know you,” Chanyeol finally said. “I want to see the real you, without actually seeing you. That’s why the lights are off. It sounds insane and all but I just want to prove to you—”

“You have nothing to prove. As long as you aren’t trying any funny business.”

“You think you’re confident enough to do this?”

Baekhyun nodded even though he had no idea of whether or not he was ready. So he’d be asked a few questions. So he’d give a few answers. That was all there was to it.

“Tell me about your family.”

“Uh, okay. There isn’t much to say, though. We’re pretty ordinary and we keep to ourselves.”

“Any siblings?”

“Nope, just me and my dads.”

“Wait, did you just say ‘dads’ or was I hearing stuff again?” Chanyeol exclaimed.

“I have two dads. Is that a problem?” Baekhyun wished he could see Chanyeol’s mien to know whether or not this entire thing was a waste of his time. Anybody who had an issue with his fathers was not only a waste of time, but a waste of space, too, and Baekhyun was worried that Chanyeol would be one of these people. It took him way too long to answer. How sad. Baekhyun was just beginning to slightly like Chanyeol.

“I’m so amazed.”

Baekhyun snapped his head in the direction of the voice. “What?”

“That is a beautiful part of you. Two fathers means twice the wisdom, the kindness, and the strength. I’m envious, although I must say, two fathers also means it's going to be two times harder to win over your family.”

Okay, so Baekhyun wasn’t expecting _that_ to come out of his mouth, but it was so sincere that he didn’t have the heart to fight it. Not many people saw having two dads as a blessing, nor did they describe it quite the same as Chanyeol did, but his statement wasn’t completely skewed, for being raised by two men taught him more than 16 years of school could ever teach him.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun answered shyly after a while.

“It’s weird that I’m curious about this in particular, but did your dads use a surrogate?”

“No, my...uh, my mom put me up for adoption when I was like, twelve.”

“Twelve? But that’s so cruel.”

Baekhyun didn’t need Chanyeol to tell him; he already knew. Tears welled up in his eyes and collected around the edges, but they didn’t fall just yet. It was like they were waiting for the right moment to escape from him and slide down his face. “Yeah, but she wasn’t a bad person, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t. I was actually thinking about how good of a woman she must’ve been. It’s not easy, letting go of your child, especially if you’ve raised him for twelve years.”

“How would you know?”

“There are some qualities we can never get from our fathers, no matter how many we have.”

Baekhyun nodded his head in agreement, forgetting that Chanyeol could not see. He hated to admit how right the senior was about this, though. It made Baekhyun feel more vulnerable. “Yeah, without a doubt,” he muttered.

“I see it in you, Baekhyun. You have a mother’s purity, her sensitivity, her beauty in both the mind and the heart.”

“How can you say that without knowing anything about me?”

When Chanyeol’s hand found Baekhyun’s and gripped it tightly, the latter froze. He didn’t think there’d ever be a moment in his life where he’d feel comfortable within Chanyeol’s reach, but now, it was far too tempting to lean into his chest and breathe in all these compliments.

Chanyeol then said, “You know, Byun Baekhyun, it takes more than the eyes to see, and the hands to feel,” while leading their intertwined hands toward his heart. “I know things from here.”

And with a click, all the lights flickered on in a series. Those lingering tears Baekhyun was holding in had fallen, and a part of Chanyeol found it hard not to wipe away each lasting drop that stained his cheeks. The only thing that stopped him from doing so was Baekhyun, who had beat him to the action.

Baekhyun let out a sigh of relief as the light hit his eyes. He rose to his feet, giving Chanyeol one last look before sprinting for home. He thought about what he had told Chanyeol in the last 20 minutes. It was more than what he intended on spilling. He couldn’t convince himself that it had truly happened, that he had spoken those words, until somewhere deep inside of him, he grew aware he had just secured himself a one-way ticket into Chanyeol’s life; and even further, beneath this layer of sudden realization, he was okay with it.

And he wasn’t okay with that.


	6. “Because I’m More”

_A softness urgently traced along his collarbone and led a sloppy path up his neck, all the way to his lips. His cries were swallowed whole as his body was pinned down by a heavy, merciless weight. The same lips tickling him peeled themselves off and suddenly made way back down his neck, passing his chest, and finally settling on his abdomen. He didn’t even take notice of his own nakedness until fingertips grazed his sensitive buds, massaging them until they grew hard. He gasped with each stroke, but it came out silent._

_No more kisses surrounded his belly button. For that short period, he thought he was saved, but they started moving lower, all the way to his jeans, and those large hands roamed on down and worked on getting his pants undone instead. He whimpered a name, one he couldn’t manage to hear himself saying, and then his member, hard and throbbing and exposed, was engulfed by a warm wetness. Though it was sinful, he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting for more, which didn’t seem to be an issue on the giving end. He was taken completely to the hilt, showing entirely no hesitation._

_He was on the verge of exploding when his hands tangled themselves in strong locks of hair, and he inaudibly begged for all the goodness to go away._

_But it didn’t._

_The only thing he felt next was himself being stretched apart by strong fingers, preparing him for what he had coming next. An aching penetration, he knew that much for sure about his fate, and he didn’t wish to endure it. At least not this way, weak and defenseless under someone else’s power._

_A distorted voice grunted and said, “You’re mine now,” attempting to mark him as territory. Goosebumps grew on every inch of his body. He could physically feel himself being claimed. Before he could do so much as protest to that haunting remark, this hovering, faceless figure slowly entered him. Waves of pain shot through him while he trembled and groaned, his eyes refusing to stay open for much longer as the pistoning continued and sped up. He decided that if he was ever unfortunate to experience the sensation of being ripped in half, it wouldn’t be too different from what he was undergoing now._

_His tears were jerked out of him each time they rocked. His hands searched for something to hold onto so as not to fly away from the pain-turned-pleasure that was so quickly consuming him. If only he could get a grip of something, anything, but not even bedsheets were within his reach._

_The last few pushes were the longest, and they were the ones that brought him over the edge. Just as he was about to release..._

—

Kyungsoo woke up abruptly, beads on top of beads of sweat staining his clothes and his covers. He panted to the beat of his heart, rubbing his sore shoulder to calm himself down. This was the fourth nightmare he had had in the past two nights, and just to make sure he was safe, he scanned his surroundings. All that hit him was a harsh ray of sunlight.

He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his kneecaps. He buried his cries of frustration into his palms, cursing his every nightmare that wouldn’t leave him alone. They hung over his head like a cloud, very literally drenching him in his fears.

Swiftly, he changed out of his soaked attire and dried himself off with one of the towels he found on his ground. The thought of putting a used towel so close to his face would’ve been repulsive on a normal day, but Kyungsoo couldn’t be bothered anymore by such insignificant things.

A clatter of what sounded like silverware against the floor drew his attention to his door, and he wondered why Baekhyun was awake. At least he didn’t have to be alone. Picking up his phone from the side table, he read the time. It was almost 10 a.m., meaning he was already an hour late for his first class. He grumbled and made the very brave decision of checking out what Baekhyun was up to.

Only the kitchen light was on when he stepped into the hallway. Baekhyun’s curses were light, accompanied by his shuffling paces. He was dropping things in the sink, as far as Kyungsoo could hear, and the rustling of a trash bag soon joined the unusual choir. He could’ve laughed to make a dramatic entrance, but the thought of having to soothe an erratic Baekhyun was already driving him insane. He didn’t want to deal with anything louder than the forks and spoons being tossed around yet.

“Baekhyun,” he muttered, walking into the light. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Oh, you’re up!” Baekhyun let the rest of the utensils slide out of his fingertips and into the left side of the sink, creating a clash that made Kyungsoo shudder, though the freshman didn’t seem to notice amongst the running water, humming fridge, and whirring microwave. He wiped his hand carelessly on his pants and guided Kyungsoo to a seat at their dining table. “Did you sleep well?”

“What are you doing, Baekhyun?” he asked again.

“I’m cleaning, of course! I thought I wanted to cook, too, but I’m not too good at that.”

“Don’t you have a class you need to go to or something?” He didn’t catch the insensitivity and anger in his tone until Baekhyun’s mien totally changed. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that you’re usually out of the house around now.”

Baekhyun nodded and returned to his sinkload of dishes. “Professor canceled class for the week so I’m stuck at home until noon.”

“I see.” Kyungsoo’s disappointment colored him a rosy pink. He was grateful that Baekhyun had his back turned away and couldn’t see all the irritation bundling up in his eyes as he hastily accepted that he had no choice but to hang out with Baekhyun until he left for his afternoon class.

It wasn’t that Kyungsoo had an issue regarding his roommate or anything of that sort. The problem was the exact opposite. He ended up liking Baekhyun so much in so little time, and he was afraid of that more than anything, for Kyungsoo wasn’t the typical definition of friendly or caring. He was terrified at how much he wanted to befriend Baekhyun, but it could never end well for people who were close to him. Jongin was a perfect example. After putting all this thought into it, Kyungsoo chose to maintain distant for both his and Baekhyun’s sakes, even if it meant that he’d appear cold to an outsider’s eye.

That was before it crossed Kyungsoo’s mind that he’d have to be consciously trapped in one room with the freshman for more than five minutes, though. He figured the next hour or so would be strangely exciting, given that it’d also probably be the last time he’d turn his attention to Baekhyun this way. It couldn’t hurt to take advantage of his one chance to act like the friend he wanted to be.

“So, any big plans for today? Since you aren’t cooking, do you plan on having lunch outside?”

To this question, Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders. He hadn’t considered doing anything but relaxing and then heading off to his dreadful class. Lunch wasn’t on his agenda, and sadly, it was the least of his worries at the particular moment. He could starve for the rest of the week if he had to, but nothing could kill him more than his yearning to see Chanyeol, and he needed to do it without seeming desperate or interested.

Baekhyun had developed a curiosity of his own in the senior after their peculiar “picnic” a couple days prior, when he was interrogated like a crime suspect and cried as though he was found guilty. Now, he thought about it pretty much every second of his life, and he wanted more than anything to turn the tables. He had walked away with absolutely nothing, and Chanyeol had more than what he deserved. But how he would accomplish the first step, approaching Chanyeol, was the mystery that couldn’t be solved.

Unfortunately, his brain wouldn’t process the exact idea into words so he could explain his situation to Kyungsoo and not sound like a creepy stalker. He groused, beyond annoyed, thanks to his indecisiveness. No matter what he chose, he’d be in the losing position, so what was he supposed to do other than help himself? Despite what Kyungsoo would think of Baekhyun, he’d be a bigger help than he could ever realize, for he knew Chanyeol much better between the two of them.

“Kyungsoo, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh, you just did.”

“Seriously?”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “I’m just kidding. Go ahead. I’ll do my best.”

As he was about to speak, he came to a pathetic stop, remembering that he barely gave any thought to what he was going to say. He only knew what not to say, which left him very little options.

“Earth to roommate on your askings,” Kyungsoo said roughly.

“Oh, right. I-I wanted to—well, I was wondering if-if you...”

A look of concern dictated Kyungsoo’s face. He hadn’t heard much come from Baekhyun’s mouth before, but he had also never seen the latter so flustered in any of their conversations. He took all the parts of this equation apart for himself while Baekhyun reassembled his broken statements.

 _What could cause Baekhyun to become so tongue-tied?_ he questioned silently. There weren’t many things he knew of that were connected to Baekhyun. Only one, in particular, and things started adding up straightaway. “What is it you want to say about Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo inquired aloud after going through it in his head, to which Baekhyun stammered some more in an effort to deny the relation to Chanyeol. Kyungsoo wouldn’t spare him his pride. “I’m not dumb. You either have a question or a confession to make about Chanyeol, so you can be honest, or I can get creative.”

Baekhyun groaned, meeting his dead end at last. It might’ve been better not to say anything, but he couldn’t take back what had already happened anyway. He’d suffer the consequences later, if he survived the humiliation. “Do you  know, perhaps anything about him? Maybe what he likes or doesn’t like, or what he does in his free time?”

“The brothers don’t have ‘free time.’ They keep themselves busy for as long as they can in a 24-hour span.”

“How, exactly?”

“The usual, ya know? Academics, their band, community service, football.”

“Football?”

“I know, right? How cliché. The most popular guy walking around here is also the star quarterback.”

It was anything _but_ cliché to Baekhyun. The fact that Chanyeol found time for his grades and giving back to the community made him everything that Baekhyun ever wanted to be. He didn’t have that kind of dedication, though, which was clearly one of Chanyeol’s most important characteristics, and that was where Baekhyun found himself stumped. If Chanyeol was truly as busy as Kyungsoo made him out to be, how did he have time to track Baekhyun down so often?

“You know,” Kyungsoo then began, “I believe training started today. They must be at the Fitness Center. Practice is always from 9 to 12 on weekdays.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun sighed after several minutes. He left his chore behind immediately and ran to his room before Kyungsoo could get another word in.

It looked like Baekhyun’s afternoon schedule just changed.

—

The stench of sweat contaminated the air outside of the Fitness Center. All the students who walked by had to cover their mouths and noses with their hands, and as they passed by, they stared at the tiny brunet sitting on the bench next to the main doors. Only an insane person would bathe in the odor so calmly, they thought before they returned to ignoring the male and going about their lives like the regular college students they were.

Little did they know that he, Baekhyun, could hardly tell the difference between the clean and dirtied air. It was repelling to most, but Baekhyun was already beyond used to the smell of somebody else’s body hanging around. He didn’t know that anything else could be as comforting at the moment.

It felt like years had passed while he anticipated Chanyeol’s looming presence. Each time the door opened, his hopes rose high, but as he noticed that the one person he wanted to see was the only person who never emerged from the building, his heart sank deep. Baekhyun was beginning to hate being there. It was bad enough that he was setting himself up for destruction by giving off the impression that he actually gave a damn, but the fact that he no longer harbored any negative feelings toward Chanyeol made him doubt his strength.

After what marked his second hour of just sitting there like a lump on a log, Baekhyun was officially tardy for class himself. It was a quarter till one, and still no sign of Chanyeol anywhere. Not even his voice marked the walls.

That didn’t stop Baekhyun from hearing a familiar voice, though. All it took were three words for him to recognize he was in good company.

 _“Are you okay?”_ it said. The door flew open, and Jongin walked out, escorting a petite girl with badly dyed blonde hair.

Upon making eye contact with one another, Jongin gave the girl a pat on the back and nudged her along a separate path. Jongin advanced toward Baekhyun, who was suddenly scrambling to his feet.

“Jongin!” he exclaimed, bowing.

“Don’t do that.” When Baekhyun lifted his head, he noticed the look of dismay on the other’s face. He was about to apologize, but Jongin was already speaking again. “Have you been waiting long?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “Only a couple hours.”

“A couple hours?” Jongin repeated, scoffing and shaking his head. “How can you be as crazy as my brother already? I knew he was a bad influence on you.”

“Speaking of him, is he here?”

“Hm?” Jongin furrowed his brows and placed a hand on the top of Baekhyun’s head. “Why are you looking for him? You should look for me sometimes, too.”

“Y-you? Why should I look for you?” Baekhyun could hardly look up at the taller male through his lashes. The weight of Jongin’s hand grew heavier and heavier by the second, reminding Baekhyun that he wasn’t imagining this scenario. It was real, and it was happening to him.

“Am I that bad?” Jongin muttered, raising his eyebrows in an irresistibly adorable manner that almost made Baekhyun feel bad for virtually questioning Jongin’s worth. He leaned in slowly, working the power of intimidation to its core. “Don’t tell me you’re into him now. Rumor has it you just about hated every bone in his body at first.”

Where was the lie in that? Baekhyun couldn’t refute the statement or say anything at all even if he wanted to, and luckily, he didn’t have to.

The door opened once more with a bang, and finally, Chanyeol appeared before the both of them, dressed in black from head to toe, a red towel slung around his neck. He held a water bottle in one hand and gripped the strap of his duffel with the other. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked in a harsh tone. His mien was stern, alternating rapidly between Baekhyun and Jongin. It had been at least a minute since Chanyeol came out of the Fitness Center, yet Jongin still had his hand on Baekhyun’s head, prompting Chanyeol to believe that his stepbrother must’ve had some sort of death wish. “Take your hand off of him.”

“Chanyeol—” Baekhyun cried, but he cut himself off when the load keeping him grounded lessened to nothing, and Jongin took one full stride away from him. The tension was undeniable. Baekhyun had a hard time believing someone as insignificant as himself could cause this rift between two siblings. He cleared his throat to speak, and perhaps distract the brothers from each other. “We were just waiting for you, Chanyeol. I’ve been here a couple hours, actually.”

Jongin nodded in agreement. “Always waiting on you, for some reason.”

Chanyeol smirked, but he was obviously not amused by what either of them were saying. “Well, I’m here now. You can scram.”

“I’m not breaking any rules, Yeol. You know that.”

“And you know that you’re breaking mine.”

After watching them spit fire at one another for far too long, Baekhyun took it upon himself to put as much space between himself and Jongin as possible. To his surprise, it didn’t relieve any of the pressure in their hearts like he was expecting it to. He sighed and moved toward Chanyeol, not knowing that by doing that, he was more or less picking a side.

Chanyeol then grabbed his hand and pulled him to his side. “Fine. You stay, and we’ll go,” he stated in a monotone, granting no pardon for his brother’s pride as he led them away from the Fitness Center, and most importantly, away from Jongin.

—

If Chanyeol wanted to wrap his hand around Baekhyun’s wrist twice, he probably could’ve, given the unbelievable contrast between the two of them.

While he was being dragged away, Baekhyun would’ve asked Chanyeol if things were going to be okay between him and his brother, for he hadn’t meant to cause a fight, but steam was nearly flying out of the senior’s ears at this point. Baekhyun reckoned it was best to keep his mouth shut until he was spoken to.

Baekhyun didn’t know where they had gone to by the time they came to a stopping point. He only knew they were far away from the dorms and close to a dead end. The first thing that ran through his mind was murder. Chanyeol was going to murder him, and nobody would be able to hear his screams from all the way over here.

It eventually hit him how ridiculous and dramatic he was being, and even more so when Chanyeol’s only movement involved pulling him in for a rather quick inspection. “Are you alright?” he breathily asked, patting Baekhyun down from head to toe.

“I’m fine. It’s not like he—okay, that’s distracting me!” Baekhyun slapped Chanyeol’s hand away. “He didn’t do anything to me! If you wouldn’t hurt me, what makes you think he would?”

“My brother and I are not the same person.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Chanyeol frowned, understanding exactly what he meant. Jongin beat him to this lecture that night of their concert, when he walked Baekhyun home. Chanyeol didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself for letting it happen. He could’ve stopped them, for he had seen them leave and act as though Chanyeol didn’t even exist, but in that instant, it didn’t occur to him that something bad could come out of it.

He should’ve known better than to think that Jongin had changed over the years. “Fine,” he sighed, admitting defeat. “What were you doing there anyways? How’d you know to come to the Fitness Center?”

“Quarterback, huh? I’d have never guessed if Kyungsoo didn’t tell me.” Baekhyun watched Chanyeol blush and back away, almost like he was embarrassed. “You really _are_ the epitome of perfection. I shouldn’t taint all this flawlessness.”

“It’s not like that, Baekhyun.”

“Your brother—”

“Forget him for one second and focus on me. _I_ chose _you_ to destroy me, so taint me all you want.”

Baekhyun flashed Chanyeol a concerned look. “You don’t get it, do you? Isn’t being my friend gonna ruin your reputation or something? Don’t you worry about that?”

“I worry about you, Byun.”

“Because of Jongin?”

Chanyeol shook his head. “Because I’m more. More than Jongin, and more than what you hear. But you may never know if you choose to listen to what others say to you rather than what I say.”

This was the most serious thing he had heard come out of Chanyeol’s mouth, meaning he had to have felt powerless. Baekhyun could crack through his exterior more easily now, and he had every intention of taking advantage of this. “I just...assumed that your brother would know the most about you, you know?”

“Well he doesn’t. He doesn’t know the first thing about me. He didn’t talk to me for like, two years. We’ve only recently come back to being on speaking terms.” Chanyeol started mindlessly ambling away in the direction from which they came, and he only stopped once to wait for Baekhyun’s footsteps to join his. When he saw the top of the shorter male’s head in his peripheral view, he reached for his hand and held it, paying no mind to Baekhyun’s attempts to free himself.

“Why did you guys fall out? It must’ve been pretty awkward going home during the holidays and pretending that everything was okay.”

“Yes, but we were young and stupid. We let the littlest things come between us, and it almost tore our entire family apart at one point.”

“If it could tear your family up, it’s not so little. What happened?”

Flustered, Chanyeol stalled for as long as he could. He avoided eye contact with Baekhyun at all costs and concentrated his attention on the trail they were taking instead. He slowed down, so much that it no longer felt like they were moving.

Beyond this point, Baekhyun couldn’t find the will to keep inquiring. He didn’t think Chanyeol would have such a hard time talking about this, but he soon realized how sensitive this topic was. The decision to speak was solely his; Baekhyun would ask no more questions.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun said first.

“Me too,” the senior murmured. “I’ll tell you the story at some point in time. I just don’t think today is the right day to do it. Please don’t be upset with me.”

Baekhyun shook his head and squeezed Chanyeol’s hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I’m always here to listen if you do need somebody to talk to.”

“Thanks. Nobody has ever said that to me before.”

“I don’t find that hard to believe,” Baekhyun said with a giggle. “But that’s why I’m here. It’s my responsibility.”

“Byun Baekhyun, your only responsibility is to breathe.”

They had been so busy chattering back and forth that they failed to take notice of the dormitories. Somehow, they managed to follow the path well enough that they wound up in front of building five even though their eyes were glued on each other. A gust of wind brought Chanyeol’s attention up first between the two of them.

“We’re here,” he said, nodding at Baekhyun’s door. “You’d better get going. I have to be somewhere in a little while, so I’ll talk to you soon.”

“How soon?”

“Gee, Baekhyun. Don’t sound too excited, or else I won’t be able to leave.”

“It was just a question.” Baekhyun punched Chanyeol’s arm and waited for their hands to come undone before he made his way toward the stairway.

“Wait!” Chanyeol urgently called after him. “Don’t make plans for next Saturday! You and I are going somewhere.”

Baekhyun turned around and faced Chanyeol, who was slowly nearing. They came face to face again, and Baekhyun could only smile shyly like a young teenage girl speaking to her crush for the first time. “ ‘Somewhere’ is a little vague. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I’m afraid you don’t really have a choice, little one.” Chanyeol pinched his nose, squeezing a sour expression out of Baekhyun. “Can I count on you to be there for me?”

After some thought, Baekhyun bobbed his head to beckon a positive yes. “Always,” he breathed, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll be there.”

Chanyeol backed off, bidding Baekhyun a formal farewell. They both found themselves walking away, feeling something they had never once felt before—satisfaction.


	7. “Who Am I Now?”

For the remainder of the week, Baekhyun ignored his afternoon classes and chose to accompany Chanyeol to his 9-12 training sessions despite both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo reprimanding him for skipping. He had to explain that he needed some time away, but Kyungsoo couldn’t really see how going with Chanyeol would ease his mind while Chanyeol ate it all up without realizing what he was getting himself into.

Baekhyun wound up drawing at least half of the team’s attention with his strut alone, and after his first day of hanging around the football jocks, he was no longer “Chanyeol’s friend.” He had become everyone’s, and they even fought over him like he was a trophy to be won.

Chanyeol didn’t receive this well. Sharing was a foreign concept in his life, especially when it came to the things he held dear to him, as everyone, including his teammates, knew. He didn’t mask his discomfort, intending to make every last one of them realize they were tampering with his possession, but they all failed to take notice of him for once in their many years of knowing him.

It took a few words from Jongin between their short breaks to make Chanyeol come to terms with the fact that he’d never be able to seal Baekhyun away completely, and he reminded the elder that as long as he wanted Baekhyun enough, then he’d always have him. A few sweaty football players weren’t going to change fate.

Though a shockingly positive and endearing idea to Chanyeol’s ears, he couldn’t shake his doubt in being the only person who had taken an interest in Baekhyun. There were about 30 men there, give or take a few. At least one of them was probably planning to pursue Baekhyun, the same way Chanyeol did. In the end, the only thing that reassured Chanyeol and kept his spirits up was his will to fight until he was the last man standing. Baekhyun’s face gave him this much strength.

Had Chanyeol not been so busy brainstorming war strategies, he’d have seen the way Baekhyun was watching him from the benches. Baekhyun’s eyes followed his every movement, his mind captured all the images, and his heart admired them. The littlest things were the things he enjoyed the most, like Chanyeol and Jongin’s interactions. If Jongin moved in the wrong direction, Chanyeol would gently correct him and show him the right way to do whatever he messed up on. He’d smile, pat his brother’s back, and say “Good job” with so much enthusiasm that Baekhyun had to question if that was the same person he had arrived with. Their relationship didn’t seem as broken as everyone made it out to be.

All along, he had assumed Chanyeol was nothing but a spoiled brat with a bad temper who acted harshly toward people he wasn’t close to, given what he had heard from Kyungsoo and seen for himself. Baekhyun never suspected to unveil that Chanyeol was the exact opposite of that premature mold.

The senior treated all his teammates with the respect and compassion they deserved, and if Baekhyun thought he witnessed a patient Chanyeol in action beforehand, he was wrong. Everyone expected a good relationship between the two brothers, so the element of surprise didn’t need to exist there, but it was a whole different experience watching him connect with those he hardly knew. He really was a separate man out on the training field.

He was so forgiving of any mistakes he saw occur on the main floor, and even more quickly than usual, he’d run to the mate who had committed the fault and begin showing him the right way to do the play. All the while, his eyes remained unblinking, even when sweat passed through, and that was the greatest sign of dedication Baekhyun had ever detected in anyone.

Bearing all of this in mind, Baekhyun felt the size of his heart expanding beyond its usual boundaries. It felt like it’d keep growing and growing until it exploded inside of him, for every day he spent with Chanyeol, he absorbed a fraction more of him. With time running so incredibly slow, next Saturday would probably never come.

It was Friday afternoon, after the last session of the week, when Chanyeol engaged in his daily task of escorting Baekhyun back to his dorm. Baekhyun no longer cared if Chanyeol hung one arm around his shoulders. Their conversations were usually brief and random, as words were typically too scarce for two people who only needed each other to be satisfied.

Generally, Baekhyun would never take the opportunity to ask the question he had been holding onto until the very while before he walked up the stairs, and Chanyeol would watch and wait to make sure he had entered his home safely. That was when Baekhyun would trudge back to the edge of the railing, look down at the attentive Chanyeol, and grin innocently.

The second his smile was returned, he’d let the inquiry slip between his lips. “Will you tell me the story now?”

And to this, Chanyeol always had the same response wrapped in a head tilt and knitted brows. “Not yet, Baekhyun. Go inside, okay?”

Baekhyun would nod, pretending to be upset by throwing on a childish frown and crossing his arms. Then, he’d turn and walk into his dorm. When he was sure his face could no longer be seen, he’d break into giddy laughter.

It made no difference, the answer he was so used to already. Baekhyun would never stop trying anyway.

 

* * *

 

Sundays were Baekhyun’s lazy days where he’d sprawl himself out on his bed like jam on bread and just listen to music from sunrise to sunset. It had been one of his many practices for years, initially meant to avoid his fathers’ “Every Sunday Crunch” brunches during which they invited all their obnoxiously loud friends over for what could only be described as a snack tasting.

He hated that those people never knew when to go home, but their conversations made up for them being a nuisance. It was always interesting to hear gossip through the air vents, and sometimes, they’d even praise Baekhyun for no reason. He supposed he could accommodate to this commotion, underneath his music. They didn’t bother him; he would return the favor.

As much as he despised their craving to live a luxurious life even though they were not luxurious people, Baekhyun missed it now. He missed his fathers, and their nagging, and the way they had to bribe him to come out of his room for dinner.

By 6 p.m. that remarkably cold, dark Sunday evening, he had finished his music playlist for the third time, and contemplated video calling his fathers for the billionth. He didn’t know if they were free to talk, since this was about the time they (his fathers and their friends) would sit down to a couple glasses of wine. He pondered for some time, weighing out the good and bad outcomes before telling himself to just suck it up and call them. Pulling out his cell phone, he searched for the application, and with the press of a green button, he was being connected to his fathers.

Not more than three seconds later, one of his two parents answered. It was “Thing One,” as he liked to call the elder. “Baekhyun! Oh my God!” he exclaimed. “Minhyuk, get over here! Your son is video chatting us!”

“He’s _our_ son, you tart!” an off-screen voice shouted, making Baekhyun giggle while tears formed in the back of his eyes.

“Hi Thing One! Hi Thing Two!” Baekhyun called in return, waving his little hand back and forth in front of his camera. “Dads, what are you up to?”

“Thing Two is cooking up dinner. Actually, he’s burning it.”

Baekhyun smirked. “No brunch today?”

“We haven’t done it since you left.”

“So you torture me when I’m there but when I’m not, you laze around? I’m hurt.”

“Thing Two” walked into the frame. “We miss you, baby. Why don’t we do this more often? I want to hear about everything. Have you made any friends? Is your roommate nice to you? Did you find a boyfriend?”

“Uh...what? It’s only been a month, Dad.”

“That’s plenty of time, sweetheart. You have no idea!”

Both Baekhyun and “Thing One” made the same, disapproving face. “Dad, I don’t think you recall me very well. Remember, Baekhyun, the introvert?”

“Minhyuk, why don’t you go back into the kitchen and stay there?”

It was quiet for a moment before “Thing Two” quit rambling on underneath his breath about how his husband and son were always ganging up on him and took the suggestion he was given. At last, things weren’t so frantic anymore. Baekhyun heaved a burdened sigh, one that his father knew had a disastrous explanation.

“What’s wrong, Baekhyun?” he asked, analyzing the rather troubled mien his son wore.

“Nothing. I just miss you so much.” Baekhyun smiled, allowing his father no time to call him out on his poorly-constructed lie. “Is the household functioning well without me?”

“When has it ever? Remember when we sent you to camp your first year in junior high? The kitchen was burnt to a crisp.”

“How could I ever forget?” Baekhyun croaked. “It took me three days to clean it all up and even then, I—” The rapid beeping of another application cut him off.

It was his text messages, and he got one after another until the grand total of texts came up to be 24, all from the same sender.

“Baekhyun?” his father called, but he had already opened up the texts.

 

* * *

 

_P.CY._   
_010-....-...._

_CY.: W_   
_CY.: H_   
_CY.: A_   
_CY.: T_   
_CY.: A_   
_CY.: R_   
_CY.: E_   
_CY.: Y_   
_CY.: O_   
_CY.: U_   
_CY.: D_   
_CY.: O_   
_CY.: I_   
_CY.: N_   
_CY.: G_   
_CY.: R_   
_CY.: I_   
_CY.: G_   
_CY.: H_   
_CY.: T_   
_CY.: N_   
_CY.: O_   
_CY.: W_   
_CY.: ?_   
_6:17 PM_

—

“Oh my God,” Baekhyun sighed, unaware of his dopey smile.

“What is it honey? Are you...oh my God you _do_ have a boyfriend! Minhyuk, get over here now!”

“Dad! No!” But there was so much screaming on the other line that Baekhyun’s protests were drowned out. In the midst of this commotion, Baekhyun could only do one thing to save himself. “I love you dads,” he said softly, and hung up the phone.

 

* * *

 

_P.CY._   
_010-....-...._

_You: Seriously?! 24 messages?! My phone almost blew up!_   
_6:21 PM_

_CY.: You weren’t answering._   
_6:22 PM_

_I barely had enough time to save my phone from exploding._   
_6:24 PM_

_CY.: Let’s go out tonight._   
_6:24 PM_

_I’m already booked for next Saturday._   
_6:27 PM_

_CY.: Ha...ha. Funny. Well, I’m already outside._   
_6:28 PM_

_What???_   
_6:28 PM_

_CY.: I’ll wait all night. Doesn’t matter to me._   
_6:29 PM_

—

Baekhyun cautiously peeked out his bedroom window. He caught no glimpse of Chanyeol, so he sighed with relief, ready to confront the elder for telling such a fib, but just to be safe, he pried his bedroom door open and tiptoed into the living room to check in the front. Baekhyun prayed from the bottom of his heart that the senior wouldn’t be there. It was already dark out, apart from the few lampposts that ignited the campus; it would’ve been foolish to stand alone, given the harsh weather.

But that was exactly what Chanyeol was: a fool. Surely enough, he was there, standing in a motionless stance that made him look like a tree with no branches.

His phone buzzed.

 

* * *

 

_P.CY._   
_010-....-...._

_CY.: I may freeze out here, but I don’t mind. Do you?_   
_6:35 PM_

—

Baekhyun grabbed the doorknob with one hand and turned the locks with his other. He jumped out into the corridor and reached for the railing, where they latched gazes. Baekhyun was panting harshly from his anger and fear, whereas Chanyeol was smiling as though he didn’t just scare the life out of Baekhyun.

“You’re evil, Park Chanyeol,” the freshman hissed through his teeth as he found the stairs and started on his way down. “Downright evil and manipulative and—”

“Handsome! Don’t forget handsome!”

“Shut up!”

“Come over here and make me!”

He stomped his two little feet down against the ground as hard as he could until he reached Chanyeol and his sly expression. “How could you?” Baekhyun shouted, pointing his finger in the taller male’s face.

“I wanted to make sure you’d come out.”

“So you lied to me?”

Chanyeol unbuttoned his jacket and hung it around Baekhyun’s slim body while he went on and on about how cunning Chanyeol was. “See? You were in such a rush to come see me that you forgot your own coat. Let’s go.” He pushed Baekhyun along with him, disregarding the weak slaps at his hands and the soft grunts.

Baekhyun eventually succumbed.

—

It was hard for Baekhyun to see where they were going. Somehow, he found it nerve-racking and thrilling at the same time, so he didn’t mind as long as they wound up somewhere warm. Chanyeol didn’t utter one word until they entered through a large door, and upon their arrival, a series of lights flickered on. Baekhyun then knew exactly where they were, just by the stench.

“More training?” Baekhyun asked concernedly.

“Where do you want to start?” Chanyeol murmured, slithering out of his sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“Me?”

Chanyeol nodded. “Shall I lift first?”

“Uh...sure. If you want to.”

They walked over to the bench press where Chanyeol sat on the bench, and Baekhyun stood idly to the side watching. There were already weights on the bar, but Chanyeol added two to each side before reclining. He began like it was nothing.

Not wanting to distract Chanyeol while he worked, Baekhyun sealed his lips. He could tell Chanyeol was trying really hard to concentrate on lifting the bar at a steady speed, and he breathed heavily while his lips counted his rounds. It shocked Baekhyun to hear him speak after such tranquility had drowned the Fitness Center.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Chanyeol grunted. “It gets lonely when it’s only me.”

“I don’t mind,” Baekhyun replied briefly.

“Talk to me. If you don’t, it defeats the purpose of you being here.”

“Will it distract you? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Chanyeol replaced the bar and sat up in his seat, wincing at the soreness that was probably tugging at his muscles now. He looked at Baekhyun, his eyes sparkling under the light. “If I ask you something right now, will you give me an honest answer?”

“To the best of my ability,” Baekhyun answered thoughtfully.

“Who am I now? To you, have I changed from the first moment?”

Baekhyun shifted his position uncomfortably. He hadn’t really ever thought about when he started seeing Chanyeol in a different light. Actually, now that somebody brought it up, he wasn’t even sure for himself when things started changing. It happened so suddenly, just like everything else in his life, and he couldn’t pinpoint a specific juncture. How would he answer truthfully anyhow?

“You,” he started hesitantly, “are someone I wish to become closer to. I hate to admit that I dote on you, but you’re such an inspiration that it’s hard not to.” Baekhyun paused to look at Chanyeol, who hadn’t broken his avid gape. He had hoped the senior would have something to say by now, but since he didn’t, Baekhyun continued. “A lot of things have become new. Unfamiliar. All you need to know is I hated you for no reason from the first second, but nothing is the same anymore.”

As soon as Baekhyun finished speaking, Chanyeol smirked and returned to his lifting, which Baekhyun found suspicious. What would he have done if Baekhyun answered with something less...endearing?

“What?” Baekhyun questioned in a rush. “Was that the response you were looking for?”

“No. But it was perfect. You’re perfect, Byun Baekhyun.”

—

Kyungsoo detested leaving his bedroom after 8 p.m., especially on Sundays. It was a day meant for relaxing and ignoring the world, so why would people give that up just to roam around like lifeless bums? There wasn’t a reason good enough in the world for Kyungsoo to ditch his bed, and he thought this for the longest time, until he was so restless that he had to throw himself out of bed and wander aimlessly, and that was when he found his reason: Kim Jongin.

When it came to Jongin, Kyungsoo didn’t mind walking by himself, even if his journey was all the way to Jongin’s dorm and required climbing up a few stairs to stand outside and wait. For what, he wasn’t sure, but he had always waited for Jongin. He enjoyed it. After some time of not knowing what to do, Kyungsoo knocked lightly so as not to disturb Jongin or Chanyeol, if they were inside. No one answered. He knocked once more and prayed that Jongin would come running, because Kyungsoo couldn’t stand it anymore. Even if it was just a glimpse, he’d be content.

Within seconds, he heard some shuffling steps and unlatching of locks. The door cracked open, and Jongin stood with his eyes enlarged from shock. “Soo? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

Saying nothing, Jongin held the door wide open for Kyungsoo to enter. “It’s almost 8:30. You don’t usually go out at this time. Is everything okay?”

Kyungsoo tilted his head up to hold back the tears that were rushing forth. He could only keep it in for so long before he broke down, and with his tears came the words he’d been tossing around in his brain. “No! Nothing is okay!” he sobbed. “I don’t want to do this anymore! I _can’t_ do this anymore!”

He kept repeating those same words in a slow rhythm that tore Jongin apart. It was rare to see Kyungsoo cry, and he only did so in front of people he trusted. Here he was, a weeping fit before Jongin, and what could Jongin do that wouldn’t further Kyungsoo’s mood?

“Soo,” Jongin whispered, extending his hand to place on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, but the latter didn’t stop. He launched himself into Jongin’s hold and waited to hear the words he had longed for. “I’m here...”


	8. “And If He Doesn’t?”

Their cups of coffee sat beside one another, the steam quickly rising into the air and waving together as one. If Kyungsoo moved his mug in the slightest way, the steam from Jongin’s would follow, and vice versa—almost like they couldn’t be without each other. Kyungsoo glared through the white river of fog and hoped he could change its course, but it kept flowing back to that of Jongin’s. He eventually gave up and moved his cup to the other side of the table instead, and though the steam failed to touch at that point, Jongin’s still tirelessly fluttered toward Kyungsoo’s.

They had been painfully silent for the past hour, _after_ Kyungsoo had finished crying into Jongin’s chest for about the same amount of time. Kyungsoo was still sniffling here and there, making Jongin look up in concern on each account. That was their only legitimate form of communication. Nonetheless, it turned out to be a meaningful silence, filled with their eyes locking on several occasions and hands inching closer toward each other. They even sipped their drinks in harmony, but the atmosphere was void of words. Ever since the start of their relationship, they spoke in their own language that didn’t require speaking at all.

It was only when the night itself wouldn’t stop crying for them to communicate verbally that Jongin cleared his throat to say a few words he had been biting back on. “I don’t know what’s going on, Soo, and I don’t expect you to tell me anything, but I’ll always listen if you need to cry.” He went ahead and grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not sick of me yet?” Kyungsoo said bitterly. “I’m toxic.”

“So what?”

“I spent the last two years trying to forgive myself for everything I’ve done, only to realize that it’s not my place to forgive.” Kyungsoo dug his nails into Jongin’s skin without even registering that he was putting the other through pain.

“It’s as much your place to forgive as it is anyone else’s.”

Snapping his head up, Kyungsoo gave Jongin a bleak look. “Even yours?”

“Doesn’t bother me. You’re all that matters to me.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Kyungsoo huffed, attempting to pull his hand away, which only made Jongin hold on tighter.

“They say the stupid people are the happy ones. If you’ll let, I’d gladly be the fool of our lifetimes just for you.”

“Why?” His voice had turned hostile, regardless of how much the remark touched his heart.

“Because despite what you may believe, I actually care about you.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Jongin shook his head and leaned in closer to Kyungsoo. “I know you do. I’ve always known. The problem is you just don’t want to accept it.”

“I’ve let you down so many times. How is it possible that—”

“I still love you so much?” Jongin interrupted, his eyes glistening.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo responded softly. “Exactly.”

Letting go of Kyungsoo’s hand, Jongin pushed back on his chair and stood up. He paced around the table, asking himself the same question. Given everything that had happened in the past couple years, he should’ve turned his back on Kyungsoo and never looked twice at the only person he had ever told his entire life story to. His feelings should’ve numbed—no, disappeared—and he should’ve moved on, just as Kyungsoo had urged him to. But why did none of it happen that way?

If it was possible, Jongin concluded he loved Kyungsoo even more than before. The more he was pushed away, the closer he wanted to be, and anyone could’ve argued that it was human nature acting by itself, but within Jongin, it was purely love. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with Kyungsoo because the latter opposed and it brought him a rush to rebel against others’ wishes; it was because he knew Kyungsoo was the only person he would ever love.

The way Kyungsoo made Jongin feel was too special to leave behind. His love brought a surge of excitement and joy to Jongin’s life. It gave him a sense of purpose. When Kyungsoo hurt him, Jongin thought he was the luckiest, most privileged person alive. There was nothing “bad.” Jongin welcomed the idea that he had never been wronged by someone with an intention to hurt him. Not even by Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo clearly didn’t think this way though, and that had always been apparent. A sin was still a sin no matter how much pleasure it brought, for in the end, justice would prevail and all that pleasure would turn into guilt and regret. Jongin couldn’t change his views, even if he wanted to, and so he didn’t bother trying. He just wanted to show Kyungsoo that there was forgiveness anticipating his return, and a love that would never go away if he’d just come back home.

“Soo, no one is ever going to love you more than I do. You’ve never let me down. You’ve only shown me how to love selflessly, how to dream even though my dreams are out of reach.” Jongin stopped marching around and stood beside Kyungsoo’s chair, facing the back of the room whereas Kyungsoo was looking at the front door. “Maybe things haven’t gone exactly as I wanted them to. Maybe I’ve had to make a lot of sacrifices to keep everyone around me happy. Maybe...I don’t know how to love.”

“No, Jongin—”

“Maybe I love too much, but Kyungsoo, you’re the only thing in my life I’ve never questioned. Even when you...you...”

Kyungsoo hung his head down low. “Go on. Say it. Even when I left you for your brother.”

“Yeah. Even then.”

And then it grew quiet again. As always, at the mention of that pitiful fiasco, Jongin didn’t know what to say or how to steer the conversation in another direction. It made him appear rather cold and distant in many situations, but in this particular one, the way they drifted into separate worlds was perfectly fitting.

—

Somewhere between midnight and one, Kyungsoo fell asleep. Jongin couldn’t say when because he too had nodded off, but waking up to the sound of Kyungsoo mumbling his name was most ideal. He almost forgot what they talked about while groggy from what could only be described as an inadequate nap, but the conversation was worth remembering and ultimately prevailed after seconds of being aware of his surroundings. He hoped Kyungsoo felt the same.

Instead of waking him up to go home, which Jongin knew was probably the right thing to do, he lifted Kyungsoo gently and carried him to his bedroom. When he set the smaller male down, he did so with utmost care so as not to disturb his deepening slumber. Even as Jongin tucked him in, he brushed only the sides of his body with the tips of his fingers.

He had finally smoothed out the last wrinkle in the sheets by the time Kyungsoo stirred and shifted onto his side, ruining his careful efforts. It reminded him how messy of a sleeper Kyungsoo was. Jongin smiled and bent down to place a peck on his forehead. Then, he sat down on the edge of his bed.

“I’ll never grow tired of your face,” he whispered, stroking Kyungsoo’s smooth pale skin with the back of his hand.

This image of him resting peacefully before Jongin was comforting in the strangest ways. It was like knowing he couldn’t run away, even if it only lasted for as long as he was unconscious, reassured Jongin’s faith in their love. He refused to stomach each harsh word that Kyungsoo said to him, knowing it was meant to keep him at a reasonable distance. Jongin was no child. He didn’t need to be told what to do, and he wasn’t dumb enough to believe in the disguised lies. Everything he needed to believe in laid in the depths of Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“Don’t leave me behind. You need me as much as I need you, baby. It’s going to be okay if you just let me guide you.” It took everything in him not to lean in and kiss the younger’s lips while he still could, having craved his sweetness for so long, but his opportunity was truly lost when he heard the door open. He quickly collected himself and exited the room, leaving Kyungsoo with one last kiss on his cheek.

As soon as he entered the hallway, he caught a disturbing glimpse of his brother, _shirtless_. He poked his head into his bathroom and tugged on his towel. “It’s pretty much below zero outside and you’re walking around half-naked?” he sarcastically questioned, tossing the towel at his brother’s head.

Chanyeol laughed and wrapped it around his neck. “I feel like I just stepped out of a sauna, alright? Cut me some slack.”

“Where have you been for the past six hours that is making you so hot? I’ll turn down the thermostat if you need but...” Jongin’s voice trailed off. He didn’t know if telling Chanyeol that Kyungsoo was asleep in his room was necessary or appropriate.

“But what?”

“Nothing. Do you need me to?”

“I’m good.”

Jongin nodded and watched Chanyeol make a full circle around the furniture before plopping down in the armchair with his eyes closed. He put both his hands behind his head and lifted up his legs. A sigh of exhaustion escaped from his lips, making Jongin wonder what exactly his brother had been up to prior to coming home that took so much energy out of him. Jongin sat in the other armchair. “Where’ve you been, Yeol?”

“Out. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried. I’m curious.”

Chanyeol opened his eyes just to stare at Jongin’s unchanging mien. “You’re being nosy. Again. What’d I tell you about that?”

“Have you been out doing drugs?”

“You’ve been talking to Madam again, haven’t you?” He chuckled to himself and clenched his eyes shut once more. “ _No,_ I was not doing drugs. I was with Baekhyun at the Fitness Center for a couple hours. You can tell your mom that.”

“Okay, that brings you to 8 p.m. It took you four hours to get home?” Chanyeol bit his lower lip, but said nothing. He didn’t move, and that only meant one thing as far as Jongin knew. “Y-you were with a girl?”

“Baekhyun’s a good challenge, but I’m a man. I have needs that he isn’t going to satisfy. And correction, I was with _two_ girls.”

“You’re a pig. A fucking pig, Park Chanyeol. Was that supposed to make this better?”

“Certainly didn’t make anything worse.” Chanyeol rose to his feet and walked to his room. Just as he expected, Jongin was hot on his tail, so he didn’t even try to close the door. Perhaps the sound of his droning and whining voice could lull Chanyeol to sleep, not that he was going to have trouble with that. He usually slept soundly after a good fuck.

Jongin leaned against the door frame while Chanyeol lazily kicked off his shoes and rid himself of his clearly bothersome sweats, leaving him in his boxers. He draped himself over his bed, ignoring the steaming human in his doorway.

A couple minutes later, he tried to dismiss Jongin. “Go to sleep. We have training in the morning.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you plan on doing. You already know that Baekhyun is guarded beyond reason. If you screw him over—”

“Knock it off, Jongin. We aren’t together. I’m not tied down to him. We’re just ‘friends’ so as far as I’m concerned, I can fuck anybody I want.”

“Not when you’ve claimed on multiple accounts you’re in love with him. You _made_ him trust you. You owe it to him to live up to that person that he’s now opening up to.”

Chanyeol slowly sat up in his bed and scowled at Jongin. “I _am_ that person, okay? I’m taking him out this coming Saturday. It’s going to be perfect.” He made an effort to sound sincere, but it didn’t look like Jongin was buying it. All he wanted at this specific moment was to sleep. What did he have to say to get his annoying stepbrother to leave him alone? “Fine, no more girls.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. You fucking twit.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t make a move, wherever you guys go. Wait and see if he initiates the first move.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Jongin smirked, giving his brother a modest nod. “Good night, Chanyeol.” He backed out of the way and turned off the hallway lights.

Chanyeol waited for the click of Jongin’s door to let him know he was finally alone. Swallowed by the moonlight coming in through his window, he no longer had an appetite for sleep. What if Baekhyun really did make a move? Did it mean that he wanted something more out of their friendship, too? What was Chanyeol supposed to do then? It was a great thing to think about, having things handed to him this way.

However, the thought of Baekhyun not making a move was scary. That left him with no option, and Chanyeol wasn’t prepared for an eternity of living in the friend zone. The girls were supposed to be his back-up plan just in case that turned out to be the situation, but it was always annoying when Jongin was correct. Baekhyun would never see Chanyeol as someone worthy of his time if he learned that Chanyeol was still sleeping around with any and everyone. Chanyeol had never wanted Baekhyun more, knowing that finally, the poor image of him that was imprinted in the freshman’s brain had subsided. Why was he so close to what he wanted, yet so far?

He didn’t think he could ever have Baekhyun entirely—and that marked the first time ever that Chanyeol doubted his competence in winning over something as “simple” as someone’s heart.

—

Kyungsoo woke to an old, familiar scent wrapping tightly around his figure. He rose slowly from the bed, balancing all his weight on his right arm, confused out of his mind as to why he wasn’t in his own dormitory. He was surrounded by darkness for the most part, aside from the bright light at the front corner of the room, where his attention was drawn to first. His hazy vision adjusted with time, latching onto the only thing in focus as far as he could tell. It all came back to him at once, and he touched his eyelids with the tips of his fingers. The puffiness reminded him that he had indeed cried, and the stinging taste in his mouth was there to tell him that he had said more than he needed to.

He sighed and turned toward the corner. “Why aren’t you asleep yet, Jongin?” he asked.

The male, whose nose was stuffed into a book, looked up from the pages. “Why are you awake already, Kyungsoo? It’s only four.”

“Come on...”

Jongin smiled and set his book down. “I couldn’t risk you waking up in the middle of the night, say around four, and running away from me. The only way I could make sure you’d stick around is by staying up.”

“Well, I’m up now, and I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“So I’ve noticed. I still won’t risk it.”

“Please sleep,” Kyungsoo pleaded, folding over the sheets as a gesture for Jongin to come join him. “I won’t leave.”

“You expect me to trust that you’ll just lie there? I’m not stupid, honey.”

“I didn’t say you were. Since when did caring for your health constitute for calling you stupid?”

“Fine, point taken.” Jongin stood up and ambled over to his wardrobe, where he shrugged off all his clothes and pulled on a pair of black pajama pants and a white T-shirt. He would’ve gone shirtless, as he always did, but Kyungsoo would’ve probably protested and kicked him out of his own bed. “Light on or off?”

“Would you leave them on?”

“Okay.”

As Jongin slid under the covers, Kyungsoo moved over to give him space until he made contact with the cool wall. He then released his weight from his arm and fell onto his back before quickly turning around to face away from Jongin. He had the same fear that Jongin would get up and leave without him, but he didn’t want the elder to know he carried such a weakness. For someone like Jongin, it was endearing and sweet, but Kyungsoo was a different story. He didn’t deserve to feel this way.

Kyungsoo figured he’d wait until Jongin was sound asleep, _then_ he’d watch over him to his heart’s content, but he was caught off guard when the other’s slender arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him into his chest. Kyungsoo held his breath as Jongin made him turn around, and he quivered when the latter’s lips touched his forehead.

They remained pressed into one another’s frames for as long as they could hold on and pretend that there wasn’t a past to their relationship or a world outside of the bedroom. Neither of them dared to close their eyes, afraid that as soon as they blinked, everything would fade away. Kyungsoo had found a way to snake his arm around Jongin’s body, too, and there, they rested.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo said after some time.

“Hm?”

“You know we can’t stay like this forever, right? This ends as soon as the sun rises. I have to go home.”

“I know. It’ll be okay. You’ll see. It’s always going to be okay for us.” Jongin allowed some space between them, only so he could look down at Kyungsoo’s naturally round and large eyes. It warmed his heart to see that they were also staring back at him, unblinking, rather than diverting as they usually were. If only the two of them could find a way to recover all the lost time in which they could’ve been holding each other this way. Things wouldn’t be this simple ever again, and Jongin needed to savor the sweet taste of this rare moment, for it was more than likely going to be the last. “Thank you, Soo,” he sighed thoughtfully.

“Me? For what?”

“Coming here tonight, blowing up, not being able to take whatever it was you couldn’t take anymore, letting me hold you.”

“What I couldn’t take was being away from you.”

“Then why does this have to end?”

“Just because you want something doesn’t mean it’s good for you, or you’re good for it.”

Jongin flicked Kyungsoo’s forehead as hard as he could. “That’s selfish and foolish and wrong. And it’s not fair. You can’t just use me when you want anymore. I won’t have it. I want you, every second of every day of my life.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo replied, giving Jongin an equally hard flick. “Please wait for me just a bit longer. Let me leave my ghosts behind, and then I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“ _Everywhere._ ”

“Yes, everywhere. Just you and me.” This time, Kyungsoo acted first. He wormed his way nearer to Jongin’s body and let his head fall on the built chest he adored. Even though he had made their lives more complicated than what was necessary by holding their love hostage, knowing Jongin would agree to his terms as long as endgame included the two of them together made Kyungsoo glad that he could fall back on this second chance. He wouldn’t mess it up this time.

From that moment on, nothing mattered to Jongin anymore. Things were finally fitting into place. His life was slowly getting back on track, and his brother’s seemed to be doing fine. Kyungsoo was his again, and his brother had someone of his own to chain himself onto. Jongin could finally feel happiness filling him up, and from the looks of it, his brother’s case was the same.

And that was Jongin’s biggest flaw.

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol had gotten into the habit of waiting for Baekhyun right outside the door of all his classes. Actually, he had done it ever since he got his hands on the freshman’s schedule, but within the span of a week, it had escalated into a disastrous disease. He knew the exact time, down to the very second, at which Baekhyun walked out of the room and smiled at him and let Chanyeol take him home.

It was only normal for him to notice and freak out when Baekhyun failed to step out at 1:08 p.m., as he should’ve. All of his classmates filed out by 1:10, the latest, but he was nowhere to be found. Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be concerned or angry.

The professor was the very last person who left the room, and Chanyeol didn’t hesitate to stop him in the hallway. “Professor, was Byun Baekhyun in class today?”

“Byun Baekhyun? Ah, yes, he was, but he told me he had to leave early. Something about an appointment.”

“Oh, an appointment? Okay, thank you, sir.”

Chanyeol pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed Baekhyun’s number. It rang twice before Baekhyun picked up, sounding too distracted for Chanyeol’s tastes.

“ _H-hello?_ ” he stammered in between a laugh.

“Where are you? I’m waiting outside of your public speaking class but you aren’t here. Obviously.”

“ _Yeah, about that—_ ”

“Byun Baekhyun, where are you?”

“ _Well, I’ll tell you...but you have to promise not to get mad because rumor has it you’re like, really scary when you’re mad._ ”

Sighing deeply, Chanyeol made an attempt to calm himself down so as not to give Baekhyun the glory of being correct. “Fine, I promise I won’t get mad. Now spill. Where are you, and who are you with?”

“ _I’m with your brother in the cafeteria._ ”

—

Anyone who knew Chanyeol would’ve expected him to go wherever Baekhyun was straightaway and confront his brother while dramatically dragging the former out by his wrist, maybe like some Korean drama, but to his own surprise, he went home instead. He waited in the living room for a couple hours, thinking Jongin would escort Baekhyun there in search of Chanyeol, but only his brother came in with his bags nonchalantly slung off of his shoulders. Standing up immediately, Chanyeol halted Jongin’s movements.

Their eyes were glued, their opposing stances trying to hover over the other’s, but Chanyeol had the edge, being the taller of the two. Jongin let the bags fall off, hitting the floor with the dullest of thuds.

“What now?” Jongin said.

“I don’t know why you insist on making my life a living hell by going after the man I love, but this shit needs to stop now.”

Jongin ran a hand through his hair and huffed a big breath of air into the elder’s face. “What the fuck are you talking about now, Yeol?”

“Asking him to meet you in the middle of a lecture, knowing I’d be waiting for him at the end? How classy.”

“Okay, you confused dick, let me break it down for you. First of all, stop with the dramatics because it’s starting to get annoying. Not everyone who _looks_ at Baekhyun _wants_ him.” Although Jongin was guilty as charged. “Second, stop tailing after him like he’s your dog and you’re his owner. He hates it, and it makes him sad because he’s under the impression you see him as less than a human being. Got it?” Chanyeol managed to nod, though he himself looked quite upset. It was clear that he was actually thinking through Jongin’s words for once in his life. “And for the record, _he_ asked _me_ to meet up.”

The look on Chanyeol’s face hadn’t been seen by the light of day in years. His eyes were lifeless; his lips, sealed; and his strength, decayed, as he fell back into his armchair with a barely audible sigh. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Just think more about his feelings, Chanyeol. You can’t even trust him being with me, and I’m your own brother. How do you think he’s gonna take it when he finds out you’re still sleeping with all these women?” Jongin took a seat beside Chanyeol and leaned back to relax the tension in his muscles. Too much had happened between football training and coming home for him to wind down, and now, he was growing sore.

“The only reason I don’t trust you is because of what I did to you. You’ve had two years to rightfully seek revenge, but you haven’t, and I’m terrified it’s because you’re waiting for the one.”

“The one,” Jongin repeated, and they could only sit there, basking in the intelligent stillness that ached for attention. A war would rise with what Jongin wanted to confess, for the assumption made against him wasn’t an assumption; it was the wholehearted truth. “If we’re trying to get past this barrier, then I’ll be honest. That _was_ my plan.”

“You—”

“But I saw something, a spark, if you please, between the two of you. In him, especially. It’s like in spite of what everyone has said to him, he still willed himself to see layers beneath you, and I couldn’t mess with that.” To be this painstakingly honest killed Jongin. He could tell it was bothering Chanyeol just by the way he was shifting his position, and for that, he felt terrible. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m glad you did. At least now I know where we really stand on this whole situation.”

“It’s not like that. Chanyeol, I’ve stopped caring about what happened a long time ago. I just want us to move on already. We’ve been at a stalemate in war for too long, and admit it, we’re both too fucking stubborn to admit defeat.”

Chanyeol couldn’t even deny that fact with a serious face. He ended up chuckling and looking over in Jongin’s direction. “I surrender, brother.”

“What?”

“You heard me. No more of this. Now that I know you aren’t gonna ruin my life anymore, I can ease my mind. And apparently you’ve been over it for some time now, so I think we’re good.” Chanyeol held out his hand as a peace offering. “Are we?”

“Definitely.” Jongin slapped his hand into his brother’s and they shook on it, sealing their peace treaty for what they hoped would be the first and last time.

The plan was to then part ways into their own bedrooms afterwards, but even if the war grounds were calm, the grenades were still being tossed back and forth, with less strength of course, but more purpose. Things hadn’t settled yet.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Yeol, but Baekhyun’s really excited about Saturday. That’s all he called me for. He wanted to know if I could give him a hint about where you plan on taking him, but since I don’t know, I couldn’t say a thing. Be good and true to him.”

“I know you’re trying to make up with Kyungsoo, too, you idiot. For better or for worse, I’m your older brother. Sure, we were at each other’s throats for most of our time as siblings, but that’s how I know you so well. Don’t let me mess up your happiness this time. Fight for it.”

And then, the calm rose high into the air, a white flag on both sides of the earth, and one battle had finally been defeated.


	9. “You Make Me Beautiful”

It was hard to establish a plausible reason in Baekhyun’s mind as to why Chanyeol had been M.I.A. that week, not that it affected him very much since he finally had the space he needed to qualify as a normal human being. But the question of what happened to his not-so-secret-admirer clung to him like a bad cold. The brief and awkward call he received from Chanyeol on Tuesday was the last he had heard from the senior. Their date was tomorrow, and Baekhyun was beginning to fear that he was being blown off already. If so, he didn’t know what he was expecting from a player, anyway.

In public speaking class on Friday, his professor discussed ways to speak confidently in front of an audience (Baekhyun assumed it could be applied to one-on-one encounters as well), and the lecture immediately captivated Baekhyun. He had always been a shy speaker, even when it came to speaking to his fathers, so it was essentially a life lesson he could take with him. That was the very first time for as long as he could remember during which he didn’t think about Chanyeol.

Class ended on a good note, with the professor telling everyone, “Remember: If you are true to your words, your words are true to you.” Baekhyun didn’t quite understand the saying, but it’d ultimately come to him in an unexpected juncture, as did all the explanations to his confusions. He left smiling, ready to speak to anybody with the confidence he had just learned of.

Anybody but Chanyeol, who was calling from behind Baekhyun. He whipped his head around, his expression bleak. Suddenly, his new faith was demolished, and he was back to his pathetic, submissive self, waiting for the senior to catch up to him. When they came face to face, Baekhyun blushed violently and hung his head. “Hi,” he said, giggling slightly out of discomfort.

“Hey, it’s been a few days.”

It immediately struck Baekhyun how odd it was that Chanyeol didn’t sound like himself anymore. His voice was different, sadder, and his smile had disappeared completely. Baekhyun didn’t know why, but he was also saddened by this, and as he found himself concerned, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

And to this question, Chanyeol wore his brightest, fakest smile. “There’s nothing wrong, silly. I’m happy to see you.”

“It didn’t look like that just a few seconds ago. You were—”

“Never mind what I looked like. I’m just here to remind you that we have a date tomorrow.”

Baekhyun was relieved that he _did_ remember, but he just had to open his mouth and say something stupid, costing him that lovely grin. “A _friendly_ date, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, same. It’s going to be great.” Chanyeol stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and nodded. Almost five minutes passed, yet neither of them said a word to the other. Not even their first encounter was this uneasy. Baekhyun was about to bid Chanyeol farewell when the latter spoke again. “Can I walk you home?”

With a hearty smile, Baekhyun said, “Of course,” and moved in under Chanyeol’s wing.

 

* * *

 

The process of preparing for their date was similar to the night of the concert, when Baekhyun stood in front of his mirror and told himself a bunch of lies that he had conditioned himself to believe over the flow of time. His insecurities were devouring him from the inside out, and he had to pull himself together for this night in particular. He didn’t want to make a bad impression or come off as problematic when he had a mental breakdown in front of Chanyeol at...wherever they were going.

Desperate to look good in front of Chanyeol (not so much in appearance as personality), he even asked Kyungsoo for advice before the time at which Chanyeol had informed Baekhyun he’d be arriving. The first question he had was regarding the actual date itself, and if Kyungsoo knew where the senior was taking them, to which his roommate just shook his head. But then Baekhyun’s questions hit a bit closer to home, and Kyungsoo could no longer give nonverbal answers.

“Do you think he’d try to kiss me? Does he expect me to be able to hold a full conversation with him? Is he a touchy person? What should I say to him when it gets too quiet?”

Kyungsoo shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head off to the left and let his gaze wander far off into the distance. There was too big of a difference between what he wanted to say and what he needed to say. To get this done and over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, Kyungsoo would’ve answered with, “Yes, yes, yes, and I don’t know.” But he had been there before, asking the same exact things, and the more he thought about sending Baekhyun out into the darkness without some sort of guidance, the gultier he grew. He didn’t have it in him to be so cruel.

So he went on with what needed to be known, from one Park Chanyeol victim to another. “He’ll never kiss you without your permission first. His interests all lie in you, so it shouldn’t be hard to keep a conversation going with him. Just be honest. And like the kissing thing, he’ll ask you before holding your hand or putting an arm around you.” Kyungsoo came to a halt, looking content with his answer, indicating so with a slight nod.

Baekhyun bobbed his head enthusiastically and backed out of Kyungsoo’s bedroom. He took all he could get, and made plans to utilize them to the best of his ability.

And the saddest thing about it was how he didn’t even stop to question how Kyungsoo always had answers to all his inquiries pertaining to Chanyeol.

—

As promised, Chanyeol arrived at exactly 5:30 p.m. to “sweep Baekhyun off his feet.” His attitude was clean yet again, concerning Baekhyun to nearly a breaking point, but he kept his concerns to himself while they greeted each other, and Chanyeol showered him with pointless compliments and a bouquet of coral roses.

“You look beautiful,” he said multiple times, holding his breath on each account. “Hope you like flowers.”

Baekhyun nodded gratefully, and he even sniffed the flowers—but then he looked down at his outfit, baffled at the ridiculous comment. He couldn’t understand the beauty standards around the academy anymore. If jeans and a white button up qualified as aesthetically pleasing, what the hell was Chanyeol, seeing as how he was in a full suit?

“Thank you, for these and the compliment, but that may be reaching. I don’t look half as good as you.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting that I look good now?”

Chanyeol smirked, and Baekhyun laughed. “No, I’m just saying that you’re on a whole different level of fancy. We shouldn’t even be comparing looks.”

Shrugging, Chanyeol held out his hand. “If you say so.” He waited for Baekhyun to take it, and they walked out of the dorm, toward the parking garages.

It had come as a shock to Baekhyun to see how nice Chanyeol’s car was when they came to it, but he wondered if the latter even drove it places. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, yet it remained sparkly and clean like a brand new car.

“Do you go places in this?” Baekhyun asked when Chanyeol opened the door for him and urged him to get in. “It’s so tidy.”

“The band, we take it places. Small gigs here and there throughout the city. Why?”

“Just wondering...” Baekhyun eased himself into the seat, letting the other close the door for him. He watched Chanyeol run around to the driver’s side and climb in himself, and instantly, Baekhyun felt out of place yet again, like he did the first few times he had met Chanyeol.

Luxurious items such as this car were too rare in his life, and for as long as he could remember, he had always preferred simple and plain means of transportation, such as the city bus. Their car back home perhaps didn’t even hold a quarter of the value Chanyeol’s did.

Obviously, Chanyeol wasn’t the same as him (nobody would be), but it was this particular vehicle that had given Baekhyun an idea of how rich Chanyeol’s family must’ve been, and it didn’t sound like a safe bet to take. No wonder those two brothers barely got along, Baekhyun thought. They were just spoiled brats who were used to getting their way or the highway.

About five minutes later, he realized that he couldn’t let his ideas interfere with the way he wanted the evening to go. He didn’t know more than what he had heard or seen, so his assumptions were misguided anyhow. Tucking away the thoughts, Baekhyun turned away from the window and to Chanyeol, where they made brief eye contact.

“So, where are we going?” Baekhyun asked in a hushed voice, carefully analyzing how Chanyeol drove with only one hand. It must’ve been a new style, but his fathers had always driven with both hands positioned perfectly on the wheel, and that was how Baekhyun drove, too. He wondered if it was difficult to control the steering wheel with only one hand.

“Just wait and see. I think you’ll like it. It seems like it could be your thing.” Chanyeol looked over his shoulder to make sure no cars were in his way, exited off the smaller roads, and entered a lane on the highway.

“You could _know_ whether or not I’ll like it if you just told me now instead of making me wait.”

Chanyeol nodded and shifted his gaze over to Baekhyun completely. “I’m well aware. But I’ll take my chances.”

Baekhyun gulped, gripping the side handle of the door. Whenever someone drove recklessly with him in the car, his only sense of security and safety was that handle. “Just keep an eye on the road, please.”

“Don’t you worry, Byun Baek. We won’t crash. I’m not going to die before hearing you tell me you love me.”

“Then you should thank me now, because you’re going to live forever.”

However, Chanyeol made it clear that he didn’t believe a single word in that statement with a smirk and a quick lane change, while Baekhyun, in his own subtle way, also concurred that what he had said wasn’t entirely true. That was the last thing said between the two of them until Chanyeol pulled into another dark parking garage, and Baekhyun realized he missed out on at least 20 minutes of the car ride. He was too busy thinking about what he had said to Chanyeol and how Chanyeol had reacted, along with his own reaction, and he completely blocked out his surroundings, which he couldn’t help but think was Chanyeol’s sole intention.

“Where are we?” asked Baekhyun eagerly for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening.

But Chanyeol, obviously enjoying the fact that Baekhyun was literally sitting on the edge of his seat, chose to ignore the little puppy and get out of the car instead. He rushed to open Baekhyun’s door, and once again, offered his giant-like hand to him. Though reluctantly, Baekhyun still placed his frail hand into Chanyeol’s palm, and they walked together to a door at the far left side of the garage that opened up to a long, lonely hall. Chanyeol checked his watch and heaved a sigh, making Baekhyun snap his head up, his eyes wide open.

There was a smile on Chanyeol’s face when he noticed the gesture. “I’m okay,” he assured, giving Baekhyun’s arm a comfortable squeeze. “It’s just that time is going by so fast already, and I don’t want the night to end.”

“Nothing lasts forever. You have to learn to make the most out of what you are given.”

“Duly noted.” Chanyeol let Baekhyun enter first and then followed closely behind, as if to protect him from harm to come. The hall eventually came to a split, where they turned right, walked a few extra paces, went through another door, and took an elevator up six floors to the very top of what Baekhyun ultimately understood to be a building. As soon as the elevator doors slid away from each other, a much more elegant corridor revealed itself.

On his left, bluish-gray panels rose above smooth white plywood and made a beautiful wall to complement the window lining the right side of the corridor, which extended from the ceiling to the floor in height and from one end of the hall to the other in width. It led the way to yet another door, and Baekhyun could feel himself slipping from the real world and falling into something else entirely as they advanced toward the glowing entrance.

There was a quiet buzz from behind it, and though Baekhyun’s heart sank deeper and deeper as he drew nearer, he couldn’t walk away. He was entranced by the mystery of not knowing, the thrill of curiosity, plenty enough to forget that Chanyeol was there too and had rushed ahead to hold open the door for him. The freshman put one foot in the doorway, but stopped in his way the second everything came into perspective.

They had come to a small auditorium, which looked to fit about a maximum of 100 people. The room sparkled gold, giving off a familiar vibe to Baekhyun, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it until Chanyeol leaned in from behind him and whispered, “Welcome to heaven,” and it clicked in Baekhyun’s bewildered mind.

Heaven.

Just then, the white highlights outlining the gold “clouds” popped out, and on the very top of the ceiling, angels peered through the clumps of fluff and a crystal chandelier. Where the walls bridged out, words were painted in a calligraphic font: “Life is a song; Love is the music; Happiness is the lyrics.”

Naturally, Baekhyun couldn’t keep his opinion to himself. “That’s not right.”

Chanyeol followed his gaze over to the statement on the other side of the room. “You don’t think so?”

“Sadness. What about sadness? Lyrics aren’t always happy.”

Chanyeol gave him a light shove into the room and muttered something about how they were going to be late if they didn’t start moving right away. Baekhyun tucked the matter away immediately. They tiptoed around the whispering people who were waiting for the show, whatever it might be, to start. Baekhyun noticed that the auditorium looked more private than it did public, seeing as how everyone knew each other on a first-name basis, making him wonder why of all places, Chanyeol chose to come here.

They approached two cushioned seats up at the very front of the auditorium, in which Baekhyun fit himself into perfectly. He was expecting the senior to plop down in the empty chair next to him and attempt to put his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder, but Chanyeol kept standing in the people’s view, albeit they didn’t seem to mind—at least not as much as Baekhyun minded. He noticed Chanyeol’s stance and how he was getting ready to turn away, and that was when he grabbed the elder’s wrist and jerked him down.

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun murmured, tugging on Chanyeol’s sleeve needily.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back. Just wait here.”

Slowly, his hold weakened as he stared into Chanyeol’s abnormally warm and hypnotizing eyes. Baekhyun didn’t want to be there by himself and be consumed by his own anxiety. The obnoxious jabbing in his stomach while he watched Chanyeol leave forced him to turn toward the stage so as not to make eye contact with anyone. He drew his knees up to his chest and kept them close until it began to hurt, and he had to release his legs. Five minutes passed, and Chanyeol was still gone.

The lights all around the auditorium dimmed one by one after an additional ten minutes, and it took everything in Baekhyun not to start sobbing hysterically. Where was Chanyeol? Why had he been gone so long? Was he okay?

Static played over the speakers, startling practically everyone in the audience, and then someone spoke, her femininity apparent in her voice alone. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending this month’s Firelight Piano Recital. As you may or may not know, the owners of Firelight choose six junior students from all across the region with proficient piano skills and ask them to play in our auditorium on the last Saturday of every month. At the end of the night, we gift them a scholarship to the university of their choice.

“This month, we are very fortunate indeed, for the son of the owner of Firelight has volunteered his skills to our young pianists. We will first see a piece by him, and then move into the scheduled performances. Please welcome, the amazing Park Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun’s jaw unhinged itself when the audience submerged into applause and hooting. For a moment, he found himself in denial, and all he could think was that there had to be another Park Chanyeol about to come up and do something magical. There was no way in hell that the Park Chanyeol he came with was about to play the piano. It was impossible, because he was a drummer. He didn’t have the poise to handle the keys of the instrument.

But surely enough, while Baekhyun was busy denying that any of this held some truth, a handsomely tall man with broad, quarterback-worthy shoulders and the essence of life hanging around his charcoal suit walked on stage. He bowed to the audience at a perfect 90 degrees before taking lengthy, suspenseful strides to the suddenly opening curtains, and there, a white piano anticipated Chanyeol’s accompaniment. He sat on the matching white bench, straightened himself up, rested his hands on the keys, and just like that, he began.

Chanyeol’s eyes were sealed shut as he sank into a familiar tune, one that even Baekhyun knew. The soft introduction of “River Flows in You” by the infamous Yiruma wasn’t hard to identify. The song progressed into a breathtaking whirlpool of both bliss and despair, a combination that Baekhyun knew too well, felt too often, loved too much. How was it even possible that this was happening right now?

Baekhyun fixed his gaze, focused it harder, on Chanyeol’s face as soon as he could withdraw from the trance binding him to his chair. The way he, Chanyeol, indulged himself in the art and so passionately played made it look as though he owed the song something, or maybe it was the piano, or the people, or the auditorium—or even Baekhyun. His soul poured through his fingertips, and by the end of the performance, when everyone began clapping, Baekhyun was floating in midair, his hands clashing wildly to the beat of his heart.

Baekhyun had been swept off his feet.

—

Chanyeol never returned to sit with Baekhyun even after he left the spotlight, and the six children came up one by one to play their piece, not that Baekhyun noticed his absence. It had felt like Chanyeol was there with him the entire time, thanks to his moving performance that still had Baekhyun trying to catch his breath.

The rest of the evening progressed gradually after the final student walked off the stage. Some short speeches were given by the representatives and sponsors of the scholarship program, a couple pairs of proud, devoted parents, and last but not least, Mr. Park Chanyeol.

He looked beyond happy to be in an environment he was familiar with, and with people who provided a sense of familiarity—at least as far as Baekhyun could see. He smiled a genuine smile; his cheeks were colored a rosy blush. He even acted shy, which Baekhyun _knew_ was an unusual thing, having known the senior to this extent. Whenever the announcer, who had finally decided to show her face and stand on stage beside Chanyeol, would crack a joke or bring up an old memory from when Chanyeol was still a child, playing the piano from one region to another, he’d laugh and run his hand through his scarlet hair, and Baekhyun just sat there absorbing every last quirk that Chanyeol had to offer until his heart began to ache.

After about half an hour of talk, Chanyeol commenced the presentation of the scholarships to each individual. With the certificate he handed them, he lent a piece of advice they could carry with them to find success no matter where they went. Then, rather than shaking their hands, Chanyeol gave them warm hugs that had the crowd cooing “Aw’s” in perfect harmony, and the students looked like they could die of glee. Baekhyun wondered what that felt like, to be wrapped in the strong arms of a man who was a drummer, quarterback, and pianist.

The event ended at 9 p.m. Every last audience member cleared out, leaving the auditorium and the last person sitting a lonely duo. Baekhyun was still waiting for Chanyeol to come find him, though he had hoped the senior wouldn’t come just yet to give Baekhyun a bit of time to sort himself out. Footsteps eventually sounded anyhow, and from his front and center seat, Baekhyun turned himself around.

Chanyeol was approaching him carefully. His suit jacket was off and hanging over his left shoulder, and the top two buttons of his white undershirt were undone. He looked exhausted.

“Hey,” Baekhyun called, jumping out of his seat and running toward Chanyeol. He stopped a few steps away. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks. How about you?”

Baekhyun shrugged nonchalantly, for which he felt bad, but he couldn’t let his contentedness show now. It would’ve been a fatal flaw for their date. “I’m okay.”

The two remained at a distance from one another, Chanyeol with a gleam of apparent longing in his eyes and Baekhyun with a twinkle of hidden adoration in his. There was something different about the way they looked at each other, like the person they came to this recital with wouldn’t be the same person they would be going home with.

But Baekhyun was convinced that change couldn’t happen in a span of four mere hours, and that his feelings were blinded by the music. This person before him was still the musical jock that stalked and annoyed Baekhyun for the first few weeks of his freshman year at college, the senior with a reputation amongst both male and female classmates, the older brother who was both loved and hated with equal measure by his only brother, and these were the facts that would always be, because change never alters the past. It only steers the future.

“Should we be going now? I don’t want to keep you too late,” asked Chanyeol once he noticed Baekhyun constantly shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He had watched Baekhyun enough to know that he only did this whenever he was uneasy.

“If you have nothing else to show off,” commented Baekhyun bluntly, and Chanyeol wound up bursting into a fit of snickers before he slid his jacket off his shoulder and wrapped it around Baekhyun, another gesture that had the freshman at a loss for words.

Together, they walked back the way they came and went home peacefully.

—

The most interesting thing about the ride home was how utterly silent it was. Baekhyun expected an engaging conversation to come from their date, but all he got was an estranged Chanyeol with very little to say. They were drawing closer and closer to home, meaning the night that neither of them wanted to end was going to be over soon, and if Chanyeol didn’t show him a sign that the night went well, Baekhyun couldn’t really do or say anything, either. He didn’t _know_ what his response to such a great night should’ve been.

But to Baekhyun’s dismay, they soon arrived at the academy, still not having said one word to one another. Were they really going to leave their feelings untouched? And in the midst of all these thoughts of wanting Chanyeol to say something to him, Baekhyun stumbled back in shock that even the most remote parts of him wanted _anything_ from Chanyeol at all.

Chanyeol parked the car in the same spot as before and turned off the engine. He didn’t get out, so neither did Baekhyun. They both unbuckled themselves at the same time, though, and things were suddenly awkward without reason.

“Uh, so…” The words wouldn’t slip past Chanyeol’s lips. He had to force them out, and he sounded like he was in pain. “What did you think about it? Was it a good place to go for our first ‘friendly’ date?”

“It was impressive,” Baekhyun said at last, his voice dry and raspy from the exhilaration within him fighting for a way out. “I-I didn’t think you had it in you. Clearly, I was wrong, but when am I not?” He chuckled bitterly at himself, wondering when his natural patheticness had grown so obvious, and he shot a look over to Chanyeol for a shred sympathy but found that the senior was simply laughing. Baekhyun turned his body inward to the driver’s seat and crossed his arms. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re adorable. That’s what’s funny. But don’t overthink it. The piano, it’s quite honestly a weakness in me despite the fact that a lot of people admire it, but I don’t mind if you don’t,” Chanyeol responded while slumping his shoulders. He repositioned himself to be facing Baekhyun, as well. “Do you?”

Baekhyun gulped hard. He tried to think of something to reply with, something that didn’t make him sound too interested albeit he was. He concentrated on his hands, twiddled his thumbs, clawed his skin, squeezed both left and right together, yet he could only find one thing to say: the painful truth. “I liked seeing you, in a state of vulnerability. I know it isn’t something you show to just anyone. I can tell you have to trust somebody to let them see you like that. You were so...beautiful. I-I don’t mean _you_ personally, I mean, your skills, and choice of song, and your passion, and-and your—”

In what can only be explained as a blur of the second, Chanyeol closed the space between them. He grabbed Baekhyun’s shoulders and pulled him closer until their trembling lips brushed. It was gentle and unrushed at first. Chanyeol didn’t want to push himself onto the Baekhyun too much and upset him, but he also didn’t pull back in order to give him time to react, if he wanted to at all. To his very surprise, Baekhyun began to nip on his lips, too, his hands seeking escape from the other’s clutch to secure around his neck, and there, their first kiss lived.

Upon the final second of that minute during which they were pressed into each other, fighting for a breath of air to help them get through, Baekhyun faltered. His hand was pasted onto Chanyeol’s cheek, but his head hung low from the shame he couldn’t ward off. “I can’t do this…”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol murmured against Baekhyun’s forehead. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s just...everything you were saying, you have no idea what it means to me. Watching you just made me lose control. I’ve never been beautiful to anyone before.”

Baekhyun looked up through his eyelashes. “That can’t be true.”

“But it is. Byun Baekhyun, it’s you. _You_ make _me_ beautiful, and I knew that you would from the moment I first saw you. ”

And so it was declared the indisputable truth, from then on, that Baekhyun was all that was “beautiful” in Chanyeol, even though the former would not agree so easily to take the credit. He was determined to show the senior that he ruined any and everything nice within his reach, but the amount of stubbornness between the two of them could harness enough energy to light up a country. Neither would listen to what the other said, but they could meet on one level: The kiss was not a mistake.

The conversation ended there, and Chanyeol walked Baekhyun back to his dorm, and just as one of his feet made it out the door, Baekhyun called his name quietly, to which he turned around. “Yes?”

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Baekhyun said, his tone of voice calm and benign. He paced over to where Chanyeol stood and gave the taller male a hug. “I really appreciate the amount of work you put into the night just to make it go smoothly.”

Chanyeol reciprocated the deed and smirked, like he already knew he had done well enough to receive praise. “Anything for you, Byun Baekhyun.” He bent down and planted a fond peck on the freshman’s forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

They parted ways again, but inside, it didn’t feel like they had gone very far. Even after they had both changed into pajamas and weaved themselves into their own beds, under their own comforters, Baekhyun still felt he was with Chanyeol, and Chanyeol still felt he was with Baekhyun. Sleep didn’t come as soon as they had wanted that night, but it was a terrible time to be restless for Baekhyun specifically, for he had finally pieced together the puzzle that was his heart, and it became intolerably clear that he had fallen in love with Park Chanyeol.


	10. “If You Say So”

Not many days could be counted away since the evening of the piano recital, but enough time had floated by for Baekhyun to develop several rather dangerous thoughts, all of which had something, if not everything, to do with Chanyeol. Every second of every day, he devoted himself to the memories he had of the senior in a pathetic attempt to relive his best moments so far at the academy while Chanyeol continued to ignore him. (Okay, maybe Chanyeol was just busy, but they hadn’t talked since _that_ night and it was killing Baekhyun.) And Baekhyun often found himself comparing his routine to having a shrine, only his was mental and less disturbing than the real thing—not that it justified his new obsession with Chanyeol.

Nothing was as bad as coming to terms with the fact that his feelings and the extent to which he felt them were the scariest things to ever enter his mind, though. Baekhyun had always known he was more than capable of loving another person, but to possess it in such a way, to the degree where it consumed him entirely and left him with practically nothing but the air surrounding him, was a new level of untouchable complexity. At one point, he tried to convince himself that he was only lusting after Chanyeol, and he even backed himself up with the way Chanyeol was introduced to him and their odd, overdeveloped friendship, yet it failed as soon as he realized that it was _all_ of Chanyeol that he fell for.

It was no longer _just_ his sly innuendos or annoying text messages that held Baekhyun down, nor was it his reputation as the king of the academy. Never mind that every girl who attended their college was out to get a piece of the drummer-slash-quarterback-slash-pianist, because in every respect, Baekhyun could only see Chanyeol as this living epitome of perfection meant to be looked at, not tampered with.

And when he had finally registered the gravity of his love, he stopped to breathe.

There were millions of other people that either of them could have been paired off with, whether that person was from as far as across the world or as close as across the street, and yet they found each other by some twisted circle of fate. Could their love lines have been drawn any better? It seemed clear to him that they were meant to be, but just in case they weren’t and he was reading too far into a couple signs that weren’t actually there, he thought he’d do himself a favor and at least talk to Chanyeol about it— _if only Chanyeol would call or text him._

Four incredibly lonely days, and he was still anticipating. Time kept ticking on, unwilling to halt for the sake of Baekhyun’s happiness and taunting him all the while with jeers: “As I go, stay trapped in the darkest corners of unknowing, and beat your brains out.”

So, on that miserable Wednesday evening, he lay on his bed and in the dim light of his room, imprisoned in the cruel prison that time had constructed in his shattered honor, and for the hundredth time, give or take a few instances, Baekhyun contemplated initiating the first move. He wasn’t sure he had the patience to play this waiting game anymore, but he didn’t want to appear desperate. Yet, for all he knew, Chanyeol could’ve been waiting for him, and that was how his solo debate started every night. Neither sides of his argument ever won.

However, tonight was moderately different, as his body wasn’t as tired, his head didn’t ache as much, and his heart pumped stronger than usual. Instead of being left with emptiness after the war between his doubts and certainties, a fire was ignited. Baekhyun rolled over to the edge of his bed and reached for his cell phone on his side table. His sanity was hanging by a thread. He let out a sigh of hope as he unlocked his phone and opened up a blank text message, preparing to do something he had never done before.

 

* * *

 

_P.CY.  
010-....-...._

_Hey. It’s me._  
_09:28 PM_

 _CY.: Of course it’s you, Baekhyun. Silly._  
_09:29 PM_

 _...Sorry._  
_09:33 PM_

 _CY.: Everything okay?_  
_09: 34 PM_

 _Yeah. It’s just been a while._  
_09:39 PM_

 _CY.: I’ve been meaning to get to you, but the first game is in a couple weeks._  
_09:41 PM_

 _Oh. Then, I’ll leave you alone. You should work hard for the game._  
_09:45 PM_

 _CY.: Baekhyun, what’s wrong?_  
_09:46 PM_

—

His fingers froze over the keys. Baekhyun was torn between telling the truth and lying about what was wrong with him, but he didn’t get the chance to decide which of the two to put to use. Chanyeol was already calling.

“Hello?” Baekhyun answered, his voice abnormally calm despite his trembling body.

_“Do you need to get something off your chest? You seem off.”_

_Yes_ , he wanted to shout, _yes, I love you_. But reality was never the same as his visions. “No, I’m fine.”

_“That’s the universal cover-up for—”_

“I’m fine, Chanyeol. Don’t worry about me.”

_“Should I come over?”_

There was a short pause, and Baekhyun saw his only opportunity. “No. No, don’t come. Can I come to you instead?”

_“Uh...sure? I’m getting ready to leave the Fitness Center. I’ll wait for you.”_

“Okay.” Baekhyun was tempted to say more, but he cut himself off there. He didn’t want to ruin the moment before it happened. “I’ll see you soon.”

—

Soon wasn’t soon enough. By the time Baekhyun slipped into something appropriate for their meeting, combed his hair, brushed his teeth, sprayed a little bit of cologne on himself, and waltzed out the dorm, it was a little after 10 p.m. He didn’t even think about how long Chanyeol had been waiting, because he had waited much longer and was evidently still alive. Fifteen minutes couldn’t have killed him.

Baekhyun took the final turn onto the sidewalk that ran in front of the main doors of the Fitness Center where he spotted Chanyeol leaning against the building, his head tilted up and his eyes shut. The tranquil state he was submerged in made him glow, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but feel guilty that he was going to disturb it. He paced himself lightly to Chanyeol’s side, giving him a couple extra seconds to remain in his trance before he planned to wake him, though he should’ve known that his eyes would be drawn and glued straight to Chanyeol. He couldn’t stop staring at his lids or his nose, and especially his lips, which then violently shoved Baekhyun back to remembering their first kiss. Chanyeol’s eyes just happened to shoot open at that trice.

“See something you like?” Chanyeol said. His smirk told Baekhyun that he wasn’t the only one admiring a beauty.

“No,” Baekhyun lied albeit his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “Have you been out here very long? You should’ve stayed inside.”

“I could’ve been buck naked, bathing in the snow. It would’ve been worth it.” Inching closer, Chanyeol snaked an arm around the smaller’s waist and pulled him in for an embrace. He rested his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “Then, I would’ve done this to warm myself up.”

Baekhyun gasped as they made physical contact. The way Chanyeol’s touch rushed into his bloodstream had him crumbling inside, his knees weaker than burnt coal. He wanted to wrap his arms around the senior’s neck too, yet he wound up pushing Chanyeol away, not because he wanted to make it look like he didn’t care for the elder but because he could feel himself fading from the world. Nothing was keeping him tethered.

“Where are we going now?” Baekhyun questioned while shifting his gaze downward to avoid Chanyeol’s piercing gape.

“Anywhere you wanna go, Byun Baekhyun.”

“I-I don’t know.”

Chanyeol furrowed his brows in fathomless thought. “Are you okay with going back to my place? I really need to shower.”

“Your place? Um, sure, I guess.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, we can stay here. I can shower here.”

Baekhyun shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” With a reassuring grin, Baekhyun extended his arm and kept it in the air until Chanyeol, after a skeptical mien, set his hand in Baekhyun’s open palm. He was in the spirit of initiation at last.

—

The first thing Chanyeol did when they arrived at his dorm was make Baekhyun sit in his bedroom. He told the freshman that he’d be quick and left with a towel and an outfit draped over his left arm. He was even courteous enough to shut the door.

Baekhyun didn’t move a muscle until the shower sounded throughout the entire dorm. He wasn’t one to pry on a regular day, knowing how much he disliked it himself when people went through his belongings, but curiosity got the best of him when he saw a photograph poking out from the corner of a book on Chanyeol’s desk. It wasn’t an extremely special photo, Baekhyun came to realize as he pulled it gently from the pages, but it was enough to make him grip it tightly and squint, regardless of his perfect vision. In it was Chanyeol, one arm hanging lazily over Kyungsoo’s narrow shoulder and the other resting on the Kyungsoo’s knee. Chanyeol’s smile was small and forced. Adjacent to him was Baekhyun’s odd roommate. Kyungsoo, who was positioned oddly, had his head turned in the direction of Chanyeol, even though his eyes were nowhere near his face. He seemed to be interested in something else off-screen, and Baekhyun wanted to know what it was that had him so distracted. But that glow radiating off of him spoke a different language. It was conveying a separate message. Could it be a person he was looking at? Nevertheless, Baekhyun thought Kyungsoo was so lucky to get to take a picture with Chanyeol, and he looked forward to the day when he would get the chance to do the same.

Setting the photo back where he found it, Baekhyun moved forward to the far wall. The few shelves hanging on there bore framed photographs of Chanyeol with a number of different people. The first one he laid eyes on consisted of Chanyeol sandwiched between two women. Baekhyun presumed the one on the right, hugging him tightly, was his mother. Their smiles were identical, and her wisdom was undeniable. The woman on his left was a mystery, though. She looked young enough to be an ex-girlfriend, but Baekhyun didn’t want that idea in his mind, not that it could be prevented anyhow, for the picture beside that one was of both Chanyeol and that same woman. Their matching peace signs made Baekhyun think of a couple’s love sign. It was only in this close up of the two of them that he noticed how much older she looked compared to Chanyeol. Perhaps that was his type. Undoubtedly, she was one of the most beautiful women Baekhyun had ever seen.

Each frame opened up the flower that was Chanyeol a bit further for Baekhyun to catch a glimpse of. His story lingered in the tenderness of every person’s expression, like they were trying to hint at something to Baekhyun, but being the oblivious person he was, Baekhyun didn’t take notice of anything significant and rather, made way to another photograph that intrigued him even more than the ones before—a face he had known for a while, and Baekhyun was softening up to it.

Jongin. He stood beside his brother, both of them wearing black suits, Jongin’s perfectly tanned skin contrasting with Chanyeol’s rather pale tone, his head tilted just barely to the side, and the two of them, with their hands in their pockets, mesmerized Baekhyun. For a set of brothers who didn’t share the same DNA, they sure were on similar god-like levels of handsomeness. Baekhyun could barely breathe as his eyes traveled from Jongin to Chanyeol, and he focused closely on the latter, falling into a pit of bliss. Without really thinking about what he was doing, he picked up the portrait and ran his fingers over Chanyeol’s figure, forgetting that anyone could’ve walked in on him caressing a photograph.

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol called out, startling Baekhyun to the point of almost dropping the item in his hands. The freshman recovered from the slip just in time to pivot on his heel and lock eyes with Chanyeol. He didn’t look angry, which Baekhyun accepted as a good sign. And then, he noticed more about their circumstance, like how Chanyeol had no shirt on; he was clenching it instead. “You’ve been looking at that one for a while.”

“And how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see you stare at that picture like your life depends on it. What, did Jongin catch your eye?”

“No, you did.”

Chanyeol ambled nearer, slithering into his T-shirt with ease. “If you say so,” he responded gently. Before he hopped on the bed, he gestured to Baekhyun. “Sit with me?”

To this, the younger simply complied. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he wiggled his way up.

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong. Did you?”

“No! No, I didn’t. I swear.”

“Gee, calm down, Byun Baekhyun.” Chanyeol laughed contentedly and ruffled the smaller’s hair. “It’s okay, look at whatever you want. That’s what they’re there for. If I didn’t want you to see them, I would’ve turned them around.”

Baekhyun chuckled alongside Chanyeol. “I see. In that case, if I have questions, can I ask them, and will you give me honest answers?”

“I’ve never lied to you before. I see no reason to start.”

“When was that picture taken?” Baekhyun pointed to the first photo he saw earlier, the one with Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol didn’t even have to lift his head to see which one Baekhyun was referring to. “Two years ago, the fourth time I met him. It was at one of Kris’ ridiculous parties, and a group of us had gathered for this picture.”

“Why wasn’t he looking at the camera?”

There was no answer. Baekhyun didn’t expect any less, for he had a theory of his own that he didn’t believe could be true up until this moment, but he wanted to hear the words come from Chanyeol’s lips.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Baekhyun muttered.

“My brother. He was looking at my brother. Have I ever told you that he has impeccable timing?”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. You won’t have to worry about it, ever. Do you have any other questions?”

“Uh, is that your ex-girlfriend? She’s pretty.”

“She really is.”

“So, you loved her a lot?” Baekhyun couldn’t hide his disappointment now, so he continued his babbling without giving Chanyeol a chance to explain. “You two look great together. You’re both tall and beautiful. I understand why you would go for someone like that, and why she chose—”

“That’s my sister.”

“Fuck…”

“Baekhyun, why do you insist on being the most adorable person ever?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Quit it,” Chanyeol groaned, pushing Baekhyun onto his back. He climbed on top of the smaller male, straddled him, and pinned his thin arms against the bed. “If you say sorry one more time, I might just have to take these lips away.”

“Okay…”

Nuzzling the freshman’s cheek, Chanyeol rolled onto his back to the left side of his bed, where they lay in a calm, hands nearly grazing, chests heaving to the same rhythm. “What time is it?”

“Almost 11 p.m.”

“It’s late.”

Their answers grew shorter, which meant they’d have to part soon. Baekhyun propped himself up on one arm and looked out the window. Another night with Chanyeol had died. “I should get going then. I’m bothering you, and I’ve got an appointment tomorrow morning with my adviser.”

“You’re not bothering me, but I also have an early schedule. Maybe it’s best that you get home and rest, okay?”

“That’s fine. You too.” Without saying anything else, Baekhyun stood up and readied himself to leave, and while he was in the middle of shoving his arms into his jacket sleeves, Chanyeol pulled him back down by his waist. He buried his face in the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, causing him to wheeze gently. “What are you doing?”

“Promise me I’ll see you tomorrow,” Chanyeol said demandingly, emphasizing that this was a promise to be taken seriously. “Not seeing you is the worst thing to happen this week. Tonight opened my eyes up to that. Don’t torture me like this again, Byun Baekhyun. It’s cruel and unfair that you can live without me, but I can’t live without you.”

Baekhyun was a mere two seconds away from admitting his own truth to Chanyeol, that he was suffering just as much by his lonesome, that he craved for the touch that only Chanyeol was able to offer, that nothing in the world could ever make him as blissful as the sound of his breathing—but he swallowed his sweet confessions and only gave words of assurance. “I’ll meet you here. Just tell me when.”

“Six. I’ll have dinner ready, and we can relax all night, watch movies and stuff.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Baekhyun rose from his position and faced the senior, who followed suit. “I hope you are a man of your word.”

“That, I am. And to prove it to you, I’ll walk you out.” Chanyeol gave him a little push toward the door of his room and guided him the rest of the way to the main entrance by swathing him in the coziness of his chest. Upon reaching the door, he pecked the top of Baekhyun’s head and came up with the lame excuse of, “It’s for good luck,” before opening the door to let him take his leave.

—

Baekhyun hadn’t moved very far from the bottom of the stairwell in the succeeding ten minutes. He was still trying to trust that everything that had occurred between Chanyeol and himself was not a dream, but was the tasteful reality he had yearned for.

He reached for the top of his head and pat it. _This is where he kissed me goodnight._

With only his index and middle fingers, he rubbed his neck. _This is where he marked me as his._

And around his waist… _This is where he electrified me._

 _“Baekhyun?”_ a voice called.

Oddly, he was sick of hearing his name called. Still, he turned around in minor shock, his head not yet out of the clouds. “Jongin, hey.”

Impeccable timing, indeed.

“How is it that we keep meeting like this? Never mind that. What are you doing out here in the cold?”

“I was meeting your brother, but then I-I was just leaving.”

The smile that greeted him swiftly altered into an expression mixed of annoyance and disappointment. “He brought you here, but wasn’t even kind enough to take you home?” Jongin also sounded angrier than what Baekhyun deemed necessary, and to make it worse, he didn’t stop his rant. “Why is that so typical of him? Doesn’t he realize it’s freezing out here, and that not even this campus is safe? Bad people still lurk here, too!”

“I’m fine, Jongin. It’s not like I’m walking across campus. I’m just going down a couple buildings—”

“It’s not _fine_ , do you understand? Come along, I’ll take you home.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened up to twice their original size. “No, you really don’t have to do that! I can go by myself!”

“I want to. Let’s go.” Jongin grabbed the shorter male by his shoulders. Refusing to take no for an answer, he forced Baekhyun to walk along the pathway, trailing behind closely. He was still mumbling curses at Chanyeol after they had passed the first two buildings that stood in between their dorms.

It was up to Baekhyun to keep him even-tempered. “You won’t yell at him, will you? I asked him not to come. He seemed tired. I didn’t want to burden him more than I already do. Not that I mind walking.”

“That doesn’t matter. He should know better than this. How little of a man can he be to let someone he cares about go about in the dark?”

“I don’t mind. Sure, it would’ve been nice if he had come with me, because being alone sucks sometimes, but it matters more to me that he’s okay. I’ve endured colder winds than this. Compared to the past, this is like a stroll on the beach.”

Jongin slowed down his steps to match Baekhyun’s. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d ever hear you talk about him like this. I was under the impression, like the rest of the band is, that you weren’t too fond of Chanyeol. It’s almost as if…as if...” Their heads turned ever so gracefully toward one another. While one was hiding beneath a canvas of fear, the other was trying to wrestle that canvas off. What a success it was for Jongin, ultimately unveiling the shy Baekhyun he was accustomed to. “You’re in love with him.”

“P-please don’t say that,” Baekhyun panicked, giving Jongin’s arm one aggressive tug to which he yelped. “Please. It’s bad enough that I have to think it, I don’t wanna have to hear it, too.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“I like him. A lot. But that doesn’t mean it’s...love, right? I-I’m too young to even know what love is.”

“You don’t know, but I do, Baekhyun. Down to the bones of love, I can tell you everything I know.” And it was bitter knowledge to be cursed with. Just because one was familiar with the boundaries of love didn’t mean they had all the bits and pieces to obtain theirs. Jongin was purely a victim. “Would you like me to explain?”

In all honesty, Baekhyun would’ve enjoyed an explanation very much, if only there were words to describe him and Chanyeol. The combination they made was all sorts of great and insane, but that wasn’t adequate. Jongin would’ve found himself tongue-tied before he could even think of a word that did Baekhyun and Chanyeol justice. So, the freshman shook his head no to that very tempting inquiry. “You won’t always be there to save the day. I’ll work it out for myself. However, until then, could you not say anything to your brother? I want him to hear it from me so he understands I’m sincere, and maybe if I get a real reaction, I’ll know how he really feels too.”

“Do you not think he’s being genuine when it comes to you?” _Because if you don’t, we’re in the same boat,_ Jongin wanted to add. He didn’t, though—at least not until he got a taste of what was on Baekhyun’s mind.

“It’s been fun and games up till now. I’m allowed to be doubtful, right?”

“Of course. Do whatever you have to do, and whatever makes you happy. It’s important to stay true to yourself. Oh, by the way, we’re here.”

Sure enough, as Baekhyun tilted his head up, building five loomed over the two of them. Finally, he was home, where he belonged. He truly was exhausted. “Ah, thanks. I really appreciate this. I hope I didn’t trouble you too much.”

“Not at all.” Jongin moved in to give a friendly embrace to Baekhyun. He didn’t mean to hold on for as long as he did, but it wasn’t really his fault, either. The third minute ticked forward; Baekhyun had a grasp of his shirt and wouldn’t let go. How was he supposed to fight him? “If it’s of any worth, I’ll gladly be your savior any day of the week. Think of me as your older brother. I’m only one phone call away if you need me for anything.”

“Thanks. I’ll be holding you to it. I should go in now, huh?” Lifting both his head and clutch, their bodies were detached.

The taller male nodded in response to the question, and saw to it that Baekhyun made it to his room safely. In fact, he wouldn’t even budge until the younger male’s light had turned out.

By then, Jongin had given a lot of thought to things that didn’t require his involvement. For the first time in his life, he felt pity toward someone for having fallen in love, because knowing his brother, Baekhyun would be driven into insanity by his little games in no time at all. If only he could make his brother register what he would be losing if he let go of Baekhyun, a fool who gave wholeheartedly and recklessly.

To mark down another first in the lengthy history of their brotherhood, Jongin marveled at how his brother’s love life could be more tragic than his own.


	11. “Is This Real?”

Kyungsoo perched in a little lump on the couch, waiting for two different things to transpire. One, Jongin’s call, and two, Baekhyun’s return, both of which were supposed to have happened at least half an hour ago. It hadn’t been very long since he and Jongin began to anticipate each other’s calls again, but things between them felt like they did in the past. Butterflies rose and fluttered whenever Kyungsoo saw Jongin walking toward him, or if they walked side by side to class, Kyungsoo would find a way to sneak his hand into Jongin’s without him noticing until it was time to part, and by then, neither of them wanted to let go.

Earlier, they had gone to see a movie at the theater—actually, Kyungsoo slept and Jongin gazed lovingly at the way his lips twitched into a smile, most likely from a good dream—and before departing from Kyungsoo’s doorstep at the end of their night out, Jongin promised he’d call as soon as he got himself home, filling Kyungsoo with so much hope that all he did when he settled down in his pajamas and fuzzy socks was watch his phone.

As for Baekhyun, he was hardly ever around anymore. The last time they had talked was when he was preparing to go on his date with Chanyeol, but Kyungsoo didn’t even know how that had gone. He assumed it went pretty bad, considering the silence, though he would’ve liked a sense of sureness.

Evidently, Baekhyun had plans of his own that didn’t involve Kyungsoo.

During the day, Kyungsoo knew he had classes to attend, but he also knew that only took up one to two hours a day, leaving about 12 hours unaccounted for. He would’ve asked for himself to get over being in the dark, but Kyungsoo was already in bed by the time the freshman tiptoed into his bedroom, and as per usual, he refused to get out of bed once he was in. However, he never fell asleep until he was certain that Baekhyun was home safe.

He supposed it was a good thing that his phone had remained quiet then, putting the week’s events into perspective. This way, he could catch Baekhyun’s arrival and figure out what a mere freshman could possibly be doing with all his free time.

It was the click of the top lock that made him jump up from his seat. The younger male was trying to squeeze in through a fraction of the door, probably thinking that Kyungsoo was asleep. He had good rationale to make that assumption, because he was right, Kyungsoo _should’ve_ been asleep, but things never happened in his favor, and so for as long as he was stuck waiting up, Baekhyun would suffer the same.

 _Unbelievable,_ he thought, observing as Baekhyun literally glided past the smallest part of the door and sighing his way over. Kyungsoo gripped the knob and pulled the door open. “Aren’t you a little early?” he sneered in his most authoritative voice as Baekhyun smiled shyly at him. “It’s only almost midnight. You should stay out a bit later.”

Baekhyun chuckled nervously to complement his head scratching. “H-hey Kyungsoo. I didn’t think you were still awake.”

“Obviously. Well, I am. You have a lot of explaining to do.” Stepping aside, he granted Baekhyun’s entrance into the small hallway, where the freshman kicked off his shoes and let them slide to the wall. He continued lecturing, because that was what Do Kyungsoo did best. “Do you realize it’s almost midnight? Just because this is an academy doesn’t mean it’s exactly safe for you to roam around! Bad people still exist, you know? Kidnappers, murderers, and you can’t forget Kris Wu—”

“Yeah, yeah. All of a sudden, it’s ‘unacceptable’ that I have to go places by myself so I should just hire a bodyguard. Damn, you sound just like him.”

“Just like who?” Kyungsoo glared into his soul and repeated himself, only much slower for dramatic effect. “Just like who, Baekhyun? Like Chanyeol?”

Shaking his head, Baekhyun said, his voice unwavering, “Jongin. He just got done yelling a campus safety lesson at me, too. My ears are still ringing.” And he didn’t even stop to think of how it might’ve affected Kyungsoo to hear that the man whose phone call he was waiting for had been with another person all the while.

“You...were with Jongin?”

“Yeah, for a bit. He walked me home.”

“Uh, from where?”

“I was with Chanyeol at their dorm. Why?”

Kyungsoo exhaled. He hadn’t been _that_ worried over nothing in the longest time. “Just wondering. What were you doing over there with Chanyeol, of all the holy places you could be?”

“Nothing. We were just hanging out, but it was getting late so I left and that’s where I ran into Jongin outside.”

“Let me guess. Little brother cleaning up big brother’s mess?”

They laughed as Baekhyun nodded. He went and plopped down on the longer sofa while Kyungsoo threw himself back in his chair, both of them closing their eyes shortly. For a split second, everything was perfect and centered. Not a single flurry of wind was out of place, and then in a whisk, the tables turned.

“So, I have something to tell you,” Baekhyun started, “but I’m not sure how you’ll take it, if you’ll take it at all. It’s...a lot to gather.”

At this point, Kyungsoo had straightened himself up, gulped about a thousand times, and beckoned understandingly, although he had no idea what he was going to hear. Whatever it was, Kyungsoo was certain he could take it. “That’s okay, just talk slowly. I’ll do my best to follow along.”

“I-I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

“You were the one who brought it up.”

“Hm, I know, but now that I think about it, I have no idea how to put it into words. I’m still trying to gather everything for myself.”

Just like Jongin, one of Kyungsoo’s best attributes was the ability to piece things together quickly no matter the complexity. (But there was nothing complex about the love in Baekhyun’s eyes.) “You like him. Chanyeol, I mean. That’s the only explanation for why you’re all choked up and whatnot.”

There was no way to deny it, either. “I...didn’t know it was okay to feel this way. It’s too soon to identify this as love or something other, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Kyungsoo grinned from one cheek to the other, recognizing the exact sensation of one heart being in love with another. It was a universal happening. The only difference laid in the intensity. “It’s always going to be okay to love, Baekhyun. You don’t have to be scared of it.”

“But are you not the same person who told me to stay away? I don’t think I’m as afraid of actually loving someone as I am of loving Chanyeol, because of everything I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, but how’d that turn out? You still fell anyway. There must be something that eases your fear, otherwise you wouldn’t be facing these troubles right now.”

 _True._ But it was more than that, too. Baekhyun had nothing to lose. He didn’t have much to begin with, but maybe, just maybe, Chanyeol could give him what he had always wanted. Tainted, Baekhyun asked questions he already had the answers to. “How bad could it be to fall? What difference does it make if I don’t? At what point does this stop being real, and become just infatuation? Do you ever really notice?”

“That’s a lot of questions, but please,” Kyungsoo scoffed, and he did so as tenderly as possible to avoid making Baekhyun feel attacked, “don’t talk about it like it hasn’t happened yet. You and I both know that this is real, and that’s where you need to put your faith.”

Baekhyun furrowed his brows in confusion. “How can you tell? Especially when even I can’t?”

“You don’t realize it yet, Baekhyun, possibly because you won’t allow yourself to, but it also isn’t my place to tell you. When you find out, and I’m positive that’ll be soon, come back and we can talk about it then.” In that exact moment, Kyungsoo’s phone rang, alarming both men of reality. “Oh, I have to take this. Good night. Try to get some rest if you can.”

He rushed to his room before Baekhyun could wish him the same, and right when he answered his phone, he almost screamed at the very top of his lungs, “And you couldn’t give me a fucking heads up?”

 

* * *

 

Breakfast the next morning wasn’t the same. Not after their newfound knowledge. Kyungsoo and Jongin had talked all night about the situation their roommates were in, how they could help _if_ they were needed, what to do if either of them broke the other’s heart, and all the other good things that came along for the discussion of “What to do when the senior hotshot finally gets the freshman weakling,” but the one thing they never got to was their own thoughts, not that it would’ve made much of a difference. It wasn’t like it was _their_ relationship anyhow, so naturally, their input would be overlooked.

Something else was tearing Kyungsoo up from the inside out, though, Jongin could tell. For several minutes at a time, Kyungsoo moved a couple pieces of fruit around his plate, his fork hanging idly between his thumb and index finger, without bringing a single piece up to his lips, and he only ever did that whenever he had too many things running loose in his mind. Jongin was suffering the same issue, and it became plain as the day that they did need to sort out their feelings, as well, given the context they had written for themselves.

“Hey,” Jongin spoke up. “So, you okay? If not, I’m listening.”

Kyungsoo shrugged, but didn’t look up. “I almost believed myself yesterday when I was telling him it would be okay. But who am I kidding? Who are _you_ kidding? This relationship, if it becomes anything, is destined for doom.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because this is Chanyeol we are talking about, Jongin. He isn’t capable of being selfless. He won’t be able to love Baekhyun for more than a month.”

“Again, why do you say that?” Jongin could tell that Kyungsoo was more irritated than distressed now, but he was genuinely curious. “Do you have that little faith in him?”

“Baekhyun is a simple guy with a lot of love in him. He needs devotion, tenderness, and loyalty, above all. They both deserve what’s best for them, but—”

“You don’t think they are what’s best for each other, is what you’re saying. Well, I’ve been told that third time’s a charm. Care to give me another why?”

Kyungsoo made a sour face and finally looked up to find Jongin smiling graciously at him. He was clearly trying to test the validity of Kyungsoo’s thoughts. His mien said it all. “If this is just a joke to you, why even ask?”

“What part of me is joking? I’m being as serious as you are, but at least I’m being rational.”

“How the hell am I _not_ being rational then? It’s not like I fell in love with some idiot I hate.”

Nodding, Jongin attempted to prove again to Kyungsoo that he sounded ridiculous, though it looked as though the younger male wasn’t going to step down. “There is a chance out there for everyone, Soo. Even Chanyeol. For now, we just have to believe that things will be okay between them, and that he really cares. Oh, and that Baekhyun will be able to stand up for himself no matter how bad things get.”

Despite it being unlikely that any of these things would come true in the near future, it gave Jongin enough to hold onto. For the sake of his brother’s humanity, Jongin had to indulge in his own words. It would probably never be sufficient for convincing Kyungsoo, but at the bare minimum, Jongin could tell himself that he tried his best.

Kyungsoo had been quiet for a long while, though, definitely because he was giving everything Jongin had said deep thought and formulating the comeback of the century, to which the elder would’ve surrendered. He loved Kyungsoo to the extent of letting him ramble on with his unreasonable reasons until he came to his senses and admitted defeat. The issues between them consistently played out like this.

But much to Jongin’s shock…

“Is that how you really feel?”

No retaliation.

“Yes, it really is.”

“Okay. Benefit of the doubt, but if he breaks Baekhyun, I’ll kill him.”

That was the first fair-minded thing to come out of Kyungsoo’s mouth all morning, and Jongin knew this for a fact because he agreed to the notion of (not literally) killing his brother. “Not if I get to him first. I promise, I’ll never let anything bad happen to Baekhyun.”

Those words came out of his mouth without so much as a second thought. Why he cared for the little freshman so much seemed like a mystery that would never be solved. He went back to picking at his grapes.

“I remember,” Kyungsoo began thoughtfully, “you used to doubt him as much as I do, if not more. What changed? Be honest.”

Jongin narrowed his eyes. He didn’t have the most insignificant inkling of where all his distrust and loathing went. They just faded from him, and the burden on his shoulders lessened, and at last, he was free. He didn’t think the process was that important, but in regards to Kyungsoo’s question, there was an answer. “Honestly? I refuse to accept that my brother is _that_ bad of a man. He doesn’t have many redeeming qualities, but I like and appreciate that Baekhyun will be the one to set him apart.”

“How romantic,” Kyungsoo jeered. For the first couple of seconds, he thought Jongin was simply babbling nonsense, but the longer the words sat with him, the more he realized that _it was_ romantic, how good Baekhyun was for Chanyeol.

They had already finished their breakfast and left the cafeteria for class when Kyungsoo moved into Jongin’s side and nudged him. “Hey, what about us, hm? Do I set you apart, Kim Jongin?”

“Did you really just ask me that?” Jongin answered almost instantaneously, stopping in the middle of the walkway. He turned to Kyungsoo and placed both his hands on each of the shorter male’s cheeks. “There isn’t a word for what you do to me, yet. There probably never will be, because no one could ever make me feel as alive and worthy as you do.”

Kyungsoo smirked and bowed his head in bliss and respect. “You…”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

They drew focus to themselves while they walked away, hand in hand, not exactly in a relationship as many had expected them to be, but just as their dumb roommates, they were certainly in love. And that was all they needed to be in for the time.

—

Throughout the entire day, Baekhyun caught himself smiling even though his surroundings provided nothing for him to smile about. He was tangled in his excitement for the evening he was in for. Lately, anything having to do with Chanyeol was something good, rather than the usual loathsome anxiety that Baekhyun harbored once before. A confession in store, and Baekhyun had never felt more ready to face Chanyeol. (He had no idea how unprepared he really was.)

Breakfast and lunch were skipped meals for the purpose of building an appetite. Baekhyun couldn’t really justify his grumbling stomach or the hunger pangs beating him up, but later, Chanyeol would make him forget that he hadn’t had anything to eat in over 24 hours, and all would be well.

He used his classes to pass the time, as well, because at the rate the day was going in Baekhyun’s mind, hell would’ve frozen over before he got to see Chanyeol. Time was playing with him, again, and Baekhyun couldn’t disguise his frustration. How could he still be so close to the middle of the day at three in the afternoon? Then, four passed, and it was like achieving an academic milestone, like getting his doctorate. It was fifteen till five when he gave up his pride and started getting himself ready in his normal routine. If he could just keep himself busy, he thought, then the rest of the time would go by quicker and the process of sitting at home wouldn’t be as painful.

Of course, as fate would have it, it didn’t take much for Baekhyun to get ready. He paid no attention to what he was throwing on, figuring out by the time he was fully dressed that it worked out pretty well for him. Layering his blue sweater on top of a white T-shirt would probably bother him by the end of the night, but it was a nice fashion statement—not that Baekhyun made very many of those, ever.

At approximately 5:30 p.m., Baekhyun made the brave decision of leaving his nest. There were 30 minutes left, and it took no more than two minutes to walk to Chanyeol’s; Baekhyun didn’t want to appear desperate, so he walked at his slowest pace. That’d buy him a little bit of time.

The last thing he wanted to do before getting the chance to confess was give himself away with his impatience. What he had set up was going to be a civilized, sophisticated disclosure of his emotions. Showing up too early would be a major no, but at least he knew he wouldn’t be late. He could imagine it already, walking in at 6:00 on the dot, a compliment or two of his punctuality from Chanyeol, some dinner, and then there, during their meal, Baekhyun would speak up about the matter. It was the perfect visualization of how he _wanted_ the evening to go.

Approaching Chanyeol’s home, he caught a glimpse of Jongin climbing down the stairs in a sloppy hurry, his duffel bag glued to his side. _Where could he be going?_ Baekhyun had been depending on Jongin’s presence to help him get through dinner. He raced to the bottom of the stairwell to surprise the elder, but apparently, Jongin was immune to the element of surprise. Baekhyun analyzed him from head to toe. He cleaned up pretty nicely.

“Going somewhere special?” he inquired playfully.

His expression was so painfully adorable that Jongin ended up erupting with laughter. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like...what?”

“For starters, I could see your smile from your building, and your brows are quirked weirdly.” Baekhyun hung his head bashfully, so Jongin crouched down to see what there was to be embarrassed about. Some teasing was bound to be involved. “You look like you have a hanger lodged in your mouth. It’s not fair. Share some of that happiness, please.”

“Who says I’m happy?” Baekhyun snapped back with his fair measure of sass, his smile no longer smeared from one cheek to the other. “Maybe I’m so upset that I have to hide it with a smile.”

The taller man’s face contorted into consternation. “Are you? Do you need to talk about it?”

Baekhyun would’ve liked to play along with his game, but he didn’t think he could hide behind a frown any longer. He was going to explode if he didn’t giggle a little. Shaking his head, Baekhyun practically shouted, “I’m so happy, I could die.”

Jongin loosened up when he saw how hard it was for Baekhyun to contain his joy. He even found himself grinning along, a little larger than before. “But you’re not gonna, because I won’t allow it, you hear?” He gave the shorter boy a pat on the head, as though he was a child. “Rumor has it that he’s got dinner prepared and a lot of other stuff. I gotta be honest, he has not stepped foot in the kitchen since senior year of high school.”

“I trust him.”

And to Jongin, hearing Baekhyun admit that was plenty. “Good. I’m really happy for you. I hope you have a nice night.”

He began to walk away when the tiny brunet ran behind him and grabbed his arm. “Wait, where are you off to? Won’t you join us for dinner first?”

“No, I’ve got an agenda with your roommate,” Jongin rejected kindly, holding the duffel up so that Baekhyun could see. “Homework. I get to tutor him in math.”

“I didn’t think Kyungsoo required tutoring. He is always so busy with his course work, unlike me. I must be failing all my classes.”

“Well, I’m available for tutoring if you ever need me.”

Baekhyun laughed heartily. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m gonna go in now, okay? You two, eat something very delicious.”

“We will.” Jongin waved. He was out of sight in no time.

Looking up at the building, Baekhyun noticed how small it made him feel. It wasn’t like this yesterday, when he came with Chanyeol, nor when he left with Jongin, but being there by himself did something to his sense of perspective. His body tensed, and he was unexpectedly reluctant to meet Chanyeol. Nonetheless, he progressed in his path, assuring himself that nothing could go wrong, and the stars were in his favor. He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

A pair of shuffling feet sounded from the other side, and their shadows were visible underneath the crack of the door. Chanyeol was there, but why wasn’t he coming to answer? Something else thudded seconds prior to the door swinging open, and Chanyeol stood slouched to his side, panting softly in a greeting. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Chanyeol,” was all Baekhyun could say, mesmerized by the beauty that had always been, but never came forth in such an obvious way until now.

“Come in. You’re right on time. I just got done with cooking.” Chanyeol allowed room for Baekhyun to slip by him. He gestured to the little table he pulled in from the Open Hall just a couple hours ago, where he had two chairs positioned across from each other. “Sit in whichever one you’re more comfortable in. I’ll start setting up right away.”

Baekhyun wound up picking the chair on the right while Chanyeol headed into the kitchen to grab a glass tray of noodles. Black bean paste, to be exact, and it was one of Baekhyun’s absolute favorites. His eyes lit up from both hunger and thrill.

Moments later, Chanyeol came back with a pot of soup in one hand and two bowls of rice balanced in his other. Baekhyun stood to offer his help, but Chanyeol dipped his head in refusal and insisted that the freshman take his seat until he was fully served. He had made two separate trips for side dishes, and his very last one consisted of their drinks and eating utensils. The table’s legs might’ve crumbled if another dish or two were placed on its top.

“You didn’t have to prepare this much,” Baekhyun said, but he was grateful for every last plate in front of him.

“This is very little compared to what I should’ve done. I wish I would’ve had more ideas.”

Baekhyun gaped at the noodles first. They looked so mouthwatering, bathing in the flawless paste that Chanyeol had cooked up. In the black pot, still boiling at the surface, was a pale broth tinted an orange-brown shade, some sliced green onions sitting atop the bubbles. Whatever gathered at the bottom was a mystery Baekhyun couldn’t wait to taste. The side dishes, however, were what made Baekhyun’s stomach positively turn. Kimchi, seasoned bean sprouts, sesame leaves, and fried fish cake. Who wouldn’t react the way he did?

As he snapped out of his trance, he saw that Chanyeol was already placing a bit of everything in his bowl of rice, which drowned in the flavors of their meal.

“Please, eat as much as you can,” Chanyeol said invitingly. “This is for you, so you should make sure you’re full before quitting, okay?”

“You too, chef.”

They raised their bowls to each other and ate peacefully, both unaware of what was yet to come. Instead, they laughed over pointless topics in their conversations and childhood memories that poured out spontaneously, most of which had been related to Chanyeol. Baekhyun even learned that Chanyeol’s sister’s name was Yoora, and their mother had gained custody of her when their parents split five short years ago. Chanyeol was a junior in high school when it happened. He had been told many other facts, too, but the only one that stuck was about Yoora, and Baekhyun wasn’t quite sure why.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Baekhyun said proudly. “It’s nice that I get to know you, too, especially since you’ve committed yourself to getting to know me. I’m learning so much about you.”

“So long as I’m not boring you, then I don’t mind at all.”

“Captivating? Yes. Lovely? Yes. Boring? No. That’s the last word I’d use to describe you. I do wonder who taught you how to cook.”

“Yoora did. She’s so much better than I am, but she always supported me no matter how much food I burned.”

“I’d eat anything you cook, burnt or not.”

Chanyeol suddenly became very aware that Baekhyun was trying to flirt with him. It was a rather cute sight to witness, and he didn’t want to let go of this painfully loveable side of Baekhyun. He listened to the boy go on and on about how much fun he was having, because little did he know that Chanyeol was experiencing the same amount, if not a greater bulk. The dishes were gradually emptied, and their stomachs were quickly filled.

After dinner, Chanyeol cleaned up, heart bent on Baekhyun staying glued to his chair so he could serve dessert swiftly. He brought back two large plates with equally large portions of vanilla ice cream and strawberry swirl cheesecake.

“Wow, this is...a lot,” Baekhyun said. He wasn’t going to be able to finish this, given how much he had eaten for dinner. But why did Chanyeol look like he was challenging him? “You know I probably won’t make a dent in this, right?”

“You’ve gotta at least try. I baked the cheesecake from scratch.”

“Where on earth did you find the time to do this?”

“Let’s just say, when you want to see someone’s happiness shine through their eyes, you’ll do anything for them. Like so.” Chanyeol motioned toward the kitchen.

It was these words that altered Baekhyun’s attitude. He saw a glimmer of Chanyeol’s sincerity flash in front of him, easing his mild skepticism of the relationship they could build and replacing it with desire to have just that: a relationship at minimum. Was this going to be the defining moment?

“Chanyeol, I—” He stopped abruptly. What the hell was he going to say? His mind blanked, his previous rehearsals gone to waste, because thinking to himself at home was nothing like the real act. “I...I…”

“You what?”

“I…” Baekhyun’s breath hitched. He felt like he was being repeatedly struck with a sharp dagger, and it was preventing him from saying anything.

Chanyeol had a forkful of cheesecake held up to his mouth, ready for tasting, but the way Baekhyun acted was too unusual. He lowered the utensil. “What’s wrong, Baekhyun? You can talk to me.”

 _I like you. I like you. I like you._ “I love you.” _Fuck._

A clang of metal against tile rang, and Baekhyun’s words echoed harmoniously along with the high-pitched _ting!_ of Chanyeol’s fork hitting the ground. There was no way…

“Did-did you just say you love me?”

Baekhyun, eyes wide and in full realization of the words he actually said as opposed to the ones he meant to say, shook his head. “No. No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You just said you love me. You love me. You love me?” No matter how many times he repeated it, Chanyeol couldn’t bring himself to be convinced. It was surreal. _Too surreal._ And it didn’t help that Baekhyun neither confirmed nor denied Chanyeol’s inquiry.

“I-I like you. A lot. But I can’t say if it’s love. Is it? I mean, it can’t be, because we haven’t really—I’m sorry.”

The apology didn’t even faze Chanyeol at this point. He flung himself from his chair and ran to Baekhyun’s side, dumbly smiling as he knelt on both knees and took the smaller male’s hand. “Is this real? Just tell me that this is real.”

Though his response came late, Baekhyun wound up hysterically crying his “Yes!” and pulled Chanyeol up for a hug. He wanted this, _exactly this,_ and he wanted Chanyeol. He couldn’t believe it for himself, but he didn’t think he needed to anymore. Enough of the cautiousness. Things were going to be just fine. “I’m all yours, Park Chanyeol. Yours.”

 _Yes you are,_ Chanyeol thought. Albeit he couldn’t voice his innermost candor, he could tell by the way Baekhyun’s grasp tightened around his sleeves that he didn’t need to; Baekhyun already knew. _You really, really are mine. At last._

 

* * *

 

Over the course of one full day, things changed drastically in a way no one had ever predicted. Aside from Kyungsoo, Jongin, and the rest of Chanyeol’s band, no one had been filled in about their relationship. Sehun was most affected by the news, in a playful manner of course, and said that one day, Chanyeol would pay for taking away the love of his life. He even blew a kiss to Baekhyun, who accepted it as the blessing of a brother. Minseok and Yixing proceeded to thank Baekhyun for coming in to take care of Chanyeol so they, as the elders, wouldn’t have to any longer.

“It’s exhausting,” Minseok admitted.

“Chanyeol is as much work as five children,” Yixing added.

It was a good laugh for everyone.

Kyungsoo and Jongin had more to say, greater wisdom to secure, and it meant the world to the new couple that they cared so much.

“When it seems like you’ve hit a rough patch in the road, draw the strength to move past it from each other. Don’t give up if your love is everything to you,” Kyungsoo lectured first. “A relationship is not a game. Commitment, passion, loyalty, these are the things you must use to create a—”

“Okay, you’re scaring them. Yeol, be a good person. Baek, tolerate him. You two are gonna have an amazing time.”

In their shared bliss and a world of so many wrongs, nothing else was more right for the four of them.


End file.
